Chronicles of Halo (After the War) : Part 4 Desecration of Hope
by gabriel.soderholm.16
Summary: The fourth narration of my Halo linear progression - follows the story of UNSC gold squad and 'Gabriel' in contrast to the Thunder fleet of Storm led by the might of Harbinger and the Prophet of Storm to find the true gods of the Halo universe - Please read other books first and give me a review or message me for personal imput! :D - Book 5 is published, go check it out and review!
1. Chapter 1

"Is there even a point anymore?" She asked herself evenly, her entire voice box cracking as she looked out of her monitoring system. None of her operators replied right away, instead being forced to look out of the cockpit and remaining silent. Lt Drafter lingered on her seat for a long while, letting her dark hair fall messily to her chest; it hadn't been looked after for a while, the effects of stress could really do damage to some.

"Ma'am should we send search and rescue pelicans?" An operator finally questioned, speaking up from the lack of noise in the entire cockpit. Hi voice was heavily strained, revealing how far they had all been pushed to this point.  
"No point" The Lieutenant spoke softly, her eyes still heavily etched onto the outside of her ONI controlled Battle Cruiser. A spasm of fire and lightning lit up the entire space around her vessel as the large Shuttle 'Fist of Judgement' continued to be bombarded with an endless supply of high beam voltage.

The Flagship had been dormant for over an hour now, leaving it vulnerable to the enemy's high powered weaponry beam that had been nicknamed 'the Glassing' by many soldiers of the remaining ships of the original UNSC fleet. Another plumage rocketed throughout the entire reminisce vessels, spewing plasma and flames in all directions as the 'Fist of Judgement' lost all forms of barriers and shields. Then without warning, the entire massive shuttle imploded in a huge array of metal, fire and lightning that spanned inwards before releasing the entire radiational out-leak into the cosmos of space.  
"Damn it!" Drafter swore and slammed a fist down onto the side of her chair, now they had lost the one ship that may have been able to match the Thunder in combat. So what was left for her to command?

A couple of worn Frigate's with the Battle Cruiser 'Red Dusk' to lead them. The Lieutenant turned back to her operators quickly, the explosion till rocketing from the outside of her ship, "Get me contact with all surviving captains, give me status on our fleet integrity and a communications channel with Serin Osman of the ONI directive base on Earth."

The crew scrambled into action quickly, grabbing onto the monitor consoles and opening up communication relay systems; the huge mushroom cloud of the Flagship was starting to clear up; revealing two large segments of the shuttle to fall down to the charred remains of Genesis II like meteors falling from heaven.  
"Get all vessels ready for battle; I don't want a single Frigate left out there without support or means to escape" Drafter spoke roughly, commanding control over the entire fleet with simple outranking of every other man and women.

"Affirmative ma'am" The head operator replied without pause before speaking back, "By the way, we have a covenant vessel on approach."  
"What kind of vessel are we talking about?" The Lieutenant spoke hesitantly, unsure if the news would lead to all of their deaths. If the covenant flagship known as the 'Infamous Fury' had teleported to their location; then her efforts would do absolutely nothing to protect them from absolute destruction.  
The operator looked back down to the monitor he had been surveying, then turned his head and spoke back to her, "A lone phantom, current status unfamiliar but approaching head on"

**Meanwhile**  
A dark sense of malice and content ran through the thought process of the Royal Zealot as he crouched in front of his master. Muscles inside his forearms clenched tightly in anger and his mandibles twitched in fury, as he lowered his heavy armoured head down he could almost smell the arrival of the San Shyuum. The Prophet of Storm looked down upon him aboard his high throne of a chair, satisfaction being hidden behind the mask he had etched upon his heavily frowned and sceptical face.

"You have failed me Zealot" The Hierarch drawled slowly, allowing his voice to carry the inevitable words of doom across to his servant, "The human escaped from your control, I thought you could restrain one filthy worm but it seems you are still too incompetent to issue even that."  
Mort'ang bowed his head lower, his armoured shoulder piece dropping as he realised the failure he had done to himself and to his honour, "What is to become of me Hierarch?" He spoke slowly, unsure and nervous if the prophet would decree an immediate execution to prove an example of the Royal Zealot.

"Your fate is to be placed under command of a Shipmaster on board the Assault Carrier 'Reckless Bloodshed', I expect your allegiances to this cause will be as fundament as your honour to the Thunder." The San Shyuum triumphantly spoke, allowing his own satisfaction to slightly be revealed across his facial structure, "Now leave us"  
Mort'ang nodded slowly, stepping up and walking away from the prophet in complete subservience and shame, although he was pleased with presence of his life; the lack of honour that he was forced to live with would be a problem for him.

The Hierarch watched the elite leave until he had physically gotten out of his viewpoint, then he positioned his shrivel throne around and looked up to the massive black Sangheili that stood in his presence and had watched, from a distance over the entire conversation.  
"Your resolve to protect is inspirational" The prophet spoke sarcastically, angered with the Harbinger's resolve to always protect him from even his own servants even against the San Shyuum's own wishes.

"The actions of dishonoured Sangheili can often be unpredictable" Harbinger replied without apology or willingness to bow down in front of his master, "And if he knew of how the human really escaped, then revenge would be etched upon his mind."  
"Then it was blessed to send him of under the commands of the 'Reckless Bloodshed', his presence would be something barely missed." The Prophet replied smartly, not caring over the fact that he had manipulated and used the zealot for his own amusement and to prevent other officials from doing the same."

"So what winds come hither now Hierarch?" The black Sangheili warrior asked quickly, unsure on what the Thunder would do next.  
"I wish to send the Sangheili general Bremat in command of the 'Reconciliation of Lies', he seems worthy of the cause and fruitful to the journey" the Hierarch spoke plainly and crudely, issuing orders and commands as if it were a simple second language to him, "And as soon as the fleet has fully mobilized and is ready for slip-space travel, I wish to meet the gods."


	2. Chapter 2

"He's losing blood! Step on it North!" the healing Spartan IV roared to the cockpit in absolute fury and will to save the dying warrior that lay on the cold purple floor of the moving vessel. More red blood slid down the large base of the Phantom as it sped up towards the USNC Battle Cruiser 'Red Dusk' and the remains of the original fleet.

The commanding golden Spartan IV gritted his teeth and quickly smashed one of his tough encased forearms forward so the stolen covenant vehicle hit the afterburners, causing it to accelerate while blue smoke thundered out of the back engines. However as the vehicle reached the outer-skeleton of the fleet, a large assortment of UNSC longsword's scrambled and started to streak through towards them.

North panicked quickly as a warning shot streaked through the sky and smashed into the hard hull of the covenant vessel, causing the blue shielding of the Phantom to flicker until they depleted completely.  
"UNSC forces! Cease fire, this is UNSC Spartan 902 of 'Gold Squad'; service number – 34346091" North relayed the message across to every nearby communications outlook, hoping to god that they wouldn't blow the stolen vessel out of space.  
"Spartan? This is Lieutenant Drafter of the Battle Cruiser Red Dusk; I am currently in command of this entire fleet" A voice replied to him sharply, "What exactly is your situation?"

"We've got one KIA and a wounded Spartan IV to report," North replied without pause, not mentioning his own part that contributed to the slaughter of Lucifer, "Do you have the location of Fist of Judgement? I can't locate it on this covie scanner."  
The phantom passed through the surviving frigates without pause or being assaulted by the many volleys of UNSC rounds that could pass through the entire vessel without one issue or even hesitation. Huge chunks of metal revolved around the infinite cosmos of space, remains of the many vessels that had been lost in combat. The phantom quickly spun through the small gap in a floating metallic husk of titanium alloy and cables.

"You're probably flying among it right now Spartan" Drafter replied bitterly without contempt or appreciation of the sacrifice that shuttle had made, "The Red Dusk has been given direct control and the position of flagship"

"Affirmative" North spoke flatly, unsure whether the Lieutenant was joking or not; the loss of such a huge vessel in such a short amount of time seemed implausible, "Then I guess we'll be heading straight to your location Lieutenant, we require immediate assistance for our injured man on board, roger?"

**Meanwhile**  
"Understood Spartan, recovery team is waiting for you in hanger bay C; I expect your whole team to be ready for mission briefing as soon as your wounded is healed." The Lieutenant spoke briefly as she looked down to her operating units, the constant pressure and need to moderate the entire fleet was starting to weigh down on her.

As the communications deactivated, Drafter turned back and sat down on the heavy chair in the middle of the cockpit. She looked over and analysed the six faces that had appeared on her primary monitor, they were all the faces of the different captains that commanded the surviving frigates of the original fleet.

"Captains" She nodded to them all, "The fate of Admiral Osborn is crucially set as unknown, as at the protocol 11 dictates; I inherit the tactical command and powers issued by him."

Some of the monitor surveyed personal nodded at her, others confirmed their affirmation by replying positively. One of them asked roughly without hesitation, "What are your orders Lieutenant?"  
Drafter breathed loudly, not issuing a complete order yet but pleasing the audience by replying softly, "I want all ships ready for frontal assault and immediate departure, slip-space jump will be directed from 'Red Dusk', AKA the Flagship."

Another captain spoke up roughly, allowing his military grade voice to carry out towards all members of the cockpit, "Excuse me Lieutenant? But someone in your level of your expertise technically has no tactical influence or power over my vessel? I think I would prefer to lead my ship with actual experience thank you very much." A sharp tone was left behind to the rest of them, leaving nothing but the resounding statement and truth; she technically didn't have enough political power as a simple Lieutenant.

"Ma'am?" An operator asked quickly, interrupting the entire conversation while tapping a tiny monitor screen and speaking, "We just got word from the lead directive of ONI base, Director Osman has promoted you to Admiral; giving you both tactical and political power over the fleet."  
Drafter smiled and turned back to the captains in front of her, "I think my order is in place, I expect your complete cooperation out of risk of insubordination."

The communications deactivated after the collection of captain's agreed and confirmed her allegation and commands. A flicker of white sparked over the screen as the monitor switched of completely, leaving Drafter alone and waiting for the covenant fleet of Thunder to make the first move.  
"I guess it's time to game up" The Admiral spoke slowly, "Check is made, let's see how this is finalised."


	3. Chapter 3

The liquid molecule slowly spun down from the eyelashes of his right eye, it touched on every hair individually until it ran down into the curve of his cheek and settled with the collection of tears that ran together. Then together under one union, the trickle completely detached itself from his face; falling down like a canopy of rain until it landed heavily on the solid reinforced metallic floor. A puddle formed as the slow stream descended in an explosion of liquid that splattered all across the floorboards.

Gabriel lay in the recovery wing of the USNC battle cruiser 'Red Dusk', completely unconscious and covered heavily with bandages that ran through his chest wounds, the neck and the massive gaping hole that used to be his left arm. A light trickle of tears ran down his cheek as he slowly drifted through the borderline between the infinite cosmos of dreams and nightmares.

"How long do you think he'll take before he bounces back?" A female voice called out from behind the surveillance window; concern and worry etched in both her voice and her face.  
West stood out the window, leaning heavily against the opposing wall and staring straight through the glass mainframe. She wore simple regulation armour mesh without her armour, letting her breathe more normally and actually act somehow human in contrast to having to act like a blood thirsty machine.

North stood with her, both hands placed on the window as he peered through and attempted to squint his eyes to discover the statistics and number code that circled around the unconscious and heavily crippled Spartan IV. He still wore his heavy golden armour without the helmet, his outer skeleton protecting him from any form of assault.  
"I don't know, he looks pretty bad" The lone hell-jumper finally commented as he looked up at the surveillance camera that observed over the recovery wing, "But you know us Spartans, it's almost like we can survive anything close to a nuclear blast."

West pursued her lips sharply, slowly lowering her forehead as she started remembering the events that led to East and Lucifer's brutal end. Personally she had believed the same thing until a first-hand account had taught her that death seemed to claim them all. Deciding not to reply she looked back to the sleeping body of the fallen team-mate, through the side of her eyes she noticed that the commanding Spartan was staring intently at her; something that had occurred a lot after she had taken her heavy armour off.  
The female warrior sighed and turned her head away so she could start to leave, it was clear that Gabriel wasn't waking up anytime soon and she really did not seem to appreciate the ability to be stared at by her commanding officer; and so she walked back to her dorm, after the death of Lucifer she really needed to run through a personal healing session.

"Hey West wait up!" The commander rushed after her, trying to grab her from behind but only managing to miss her shoulder slightly.  
"What!?" She remarked harshly, turning back to face him aggressively; truth be told she wasn't prepared or wanting for his never-ending parade of nonsense.  
"Look I know that Lucifer's death hurt for everyone" North stepped forward and looked down at her, letting his heavy mainframe serve to intimidate her, "But I don't want you filling this new guys head with what you think is the truth ok? I did what I had to do back then."  
West stepped forward roughly, clenching a fist together as she looked straight up into the visor of her commanding officer as she spat out, "As soon as Gabriel wakes, I'm going to make sure he knows exactly what happened to his squad mate."

The golden Spartan IV reacted immediately, lunging his forearm forward so he grabbed onto her wrist in a quick span of less than a second, as he held onto her his visor leaned forward and spoke to her, "You will follow my orders to the letter, I really don't wish to pull rank but I will do what I need to do to keep my squad safe!"  
West yanked her arm away in anger, understanding that she was completely underpowered compared to him but really not caring, "Keep us safe! You betrayed Lucifer because you hated him! Oh I hope they tie you to the front of the ship for this one!"

The Spartan IV smashed his left arm forward, slapping the unarmed and unarmoured warrior in front of him so harshly that she physically fell to the floor; West reached down with an elbow just narrowly before she smashed into the cold metallic and emotionless floorboards. She stifled a spike of pain that travelled upwards through her body, then stared through the visor of her enemy and stood up roughly; only to turn around and walk away from him in complete disgust.

North swore as the female walked back to her, then looked back at the window of the recovery wing; clenching his fists together in anger and marched straight after the fleeing unarmoured warrior.  
As soon as he started walking, a short beep echoed from inside the recovery ward; only to be answered by the fallen and wounded blue Spartan IV who opened one of his eyes slowly and dramatically.


	4. Chapter 4

A thick and ominous growl escaped out of the white teeth of the Sangheili warrior, gusts of air blowing out of the two pairs of mandibles that encased its mouth. He snorted again, letting another torrent of anger escape; then with a resigned sigh he stepped heavily forward and travelled through the large purple corridors with a resounding echoing sound of footsteps.

Two small Unggoy warriors clad in green methane tanks ran past the Royal Zealot quickly, making sure not to stay long in fear to irritate the large golden warrior. Mort'ang growled again, stomping down the hallway until he made his way to the main cockpit in order to speak the Shipmaster of his new assigned Storm vessel, the Assault Carrier 'Reckless Bloodshed.'

Mort'ang's long and ridged fingers twitched at the handle of his energy blade, to serve under another Sangheili seemed to be something that he should have left behind by now; the irritating optimism hit him straight in the chest as he realised the Prophet could have easily placed him under a crude Jiralhanae or even be sentenced to death.  
A large assortment of Sangheili, Kig-Yar and Unggoy operators were held inside the cockpit of the assault carrier; using different hovering class monitors and different sorts of covenant Storm technology. At the head of the entire procession, two large elite's stood at the bridge and looked down at the working covenant pilots.

"I address you, Shipmaster of the Reckless Bloodshed." Mort'ang proudly pronounced, not caring if he came across as arrogant or even rude; he wasn't here to please the Shipmaster, he was here because he was ordered to.

The two large silhouettes of elite warriors didn't move, instead they stood ominously and stared at him slowly. As the royal zealot continued to wait for an answer, a purple light flared upwards and revealed the twin set of Sangheili to be merely Ultra Honour Guard's that carried a large energy sword in their right taloned arms.

A voice cut though the heavy atmosphere from behind the kneeling golden zealot, but it wasn't rough or crude, it wasn't even demanding; as Mort'ang turned around to face the speaker, he was half expecting a human to be standing in front of him.  
"Greetings Mort'ang, Golden Zealot of the Royal order and former shipmaster of the Reconciliation of Lies" A large purple figure bowed its head in his direction, only raising it again when the zealot stood up and faced him.

"Who are you?" Mort'ang asked slowly, the Sangheili in front of him was bowing its head; showing it allegiance and lack of hierarchal might. Then the mandibles on the purple figure flared in a friendly display, letting the elite cock its head back and speak slowly; his voice calm and sure but with the fire of a passionate individual.  
"I am Ark'an, Shipmaster of the Reckless Bloodshed at your service!" The purple Sangheili replied thoughtfully with an optimistic grin on his usually fierce face, keen to meet the acquaintance of the golden Zealot, "And it seems you have been united under my teachings young warrior."

"My services are aligned with the holy path of the Hierarch" Mort'ang growled aggressively, not wishing to be put under this strange elite, "Your teachings seem to be an obsolete task in such a furious and blood shed war"  
Ark'an chuckled to himself quickly, scratching at his lower mandibles as he looked around at the piloting mixes of separate races until he spoke evenly and wisely, "It seems we have a lot to speak of young Zealot, especially after your murder of my former brother and friend Ya'kai."  
Mort'ang swallowed loudly, unsure how the Shipmaster react as he spoke, "The purification of heresy is never pronounced murder, and to insinuate my falseness may cause a blade to be cut through your own hide."

A growl emanated from behind the golden zealot, showing that one of the two guards was starting to walk forward with a sword held sharply. Ark'an cocked his head to the side quickly, stopping the guard in his tracks before turning his piercing gaze back to the upstart zealot.  
"Calm yourself warrior, I wish not for your young blood to be spilt this day" The Shipmaster spoke slowly and calmly.  
"Would you do that to me yourself? You are merely an elder with a few undisciplined guards" The Royal Zealot spat back, his mandibles twitching aggressively.  
Ark'an laughed again, a series of chuckles escaping his heavy and lightly armoured mandibles, "You see but you do not understand young warrior, if you would even lift you blade against me than every single creature in this cockpit would no doubt rally against you."

"These filths are barely trained to carry a weapon, let alone use it." Mort'ang roared aggressively, stepping forward so he could position his face right into the eyes of his Shipmaster and possible enemy.  
The shipmaster remained silent for a moment, he knew that every single covenant species under his command had been specifically ordered to learn weapons training in order to protect themselves from anything that may threaten them; that was the one aspect that Ark'an believed himself to be separate from most shipmasters, he cared greatly for the survival and welfare of all forces under his guidance.

"If you wish to challenge me probably, then so be it" Ark'an finished off, knowing where the conversation was going to end and accepting it.  
"Giving me permission to hack of you head isn't the wisest move of a Shipmaster" Mort'ang snorted derisively as he looked down to the weathered elder, "So be it."


	5. Chapter 5

West sighed as she looked around inside the living quarters of her newly acquainted room, she hadn't been one for true sentimentality but it was if something valuable and treasured had been torn away from her. However she was never one for complaining, and although she missed all of her usual possessions; she could still live and make do without them and at least she hadn't turned out like many of soldiers and operators on board the, now destroyed, shuttle known as the Fist of Judgement.

The female Spartan IV looked back to the heavy golden Mjonlir armour that was situated at the top right corner of her room. As if to reassure it was still there she turned back and prepared to get herself ready for a training exercise or anything that would get her mind of her squad and onto the physical attributes and skills that needed to be learned. After being physically bullied by her commanding officer, she felt like taking her anger out on something anyway.  
"Seem familiar?" A voice called out, the same tone of the man that had bet her earlier and betrayed one of their own to his death.

"Get lost North; I swear I don't have time for you shit right now" West swore to herself as she saw the golden Spartan IV leaning against her door frame. Although his face was hidden by a large visor, she could tell that he was arrogantly smiling at the power he had over her.  
The commander feigned being emotional injured before speaking, "Now what did I do to deserve that amount of anger?" He spoke smugly, looking down at her in a practiced art of intimidation.  
"Oh the list goes on for miles" West bit back at him, tossing her large lock of jet black hair out the way as she stood defiantly up to him.  
"Well do you want to fix that West? Take things the way they were really supposed to be?" North laughed back at her, nodding towards the bed in her room with a terrible set of intentions etched upon his mind.

"There's something wrong with you, something that I could never fix." West looked down at her feet as she spoke, letting the combined sympathy of both East and Lucifer's death to affect her tone and body alignment.  
"What are you saying West, come on…spit it out!" The commander roared at her, using his bulky armour to look over her and attempt to frighten her into complete submission.  
"I'm saying that you've become worse than the enemy I'm told to shoot at!" The unarmoured female spoke back plainly, calculating the repercussions of her words with physical activeness and a sharp eye.

North reacted explosively, punching forward with his right fist but only managing to hit past the already moving female warrior; West reacted quicker with more pace and resolve as she dodged the initial strike and lunged her left knee forward violently. The commander groaned outloud as his unprotected nook between his legs was smashed without mercy, the as he fell to the floor in complete agony he reacted out of pure spite and pulled out his M9 Magnum, cocked it and stood up with ill intentions and now a weapon in his armoured hand.  
West opened her eyes in complete shock as she saw her commander level the gun right at her; she had never expected him to even think about firing a bullet into her unprotected flesh.  
A blur of blue armour spun between them quickly, causing a sense of confusion and the loud echo sound of a bullet being fired at bouncing of a light set of energy shields. A large white arm grabbed the commander's wrist and forced him down to the floor quickly; at first thought, West considered South had come just in time to save her.

But it was Gabriel that was holding the commander down with his large reinforced white arm and the rest of his huge set of blue Mjonlir armour.

**Meanwhile**  
Mort'ang cracked his two heavy knuckles roughly, twitching his fingers together in anticipation as he walked up and down in an endless circle while waiting for his opponent to finally show himself and ready the match between himself and Ark'an.  
As a march of Sangheili started to walk into the circular chamber, the Royal Zealot looked up and grabbed at the white handle holstered at his thigh; preparing to activate the large symmetrical curve blade into an energy sword for the dual ahead.

"Are you well rested Mort'ang?" The Shipmaster asked slowly, purely concerned and pleased to know if the elite in his command had met his match when it came to sleeping.  
"Enough talk!" The Golden warrior growled aggressively, stepping into the circular rim and activating the blue energy blade; letting plasma cackle like a continuous bolt of lightning onto the purple floor.

"Very well, I believe you are experienced in the art of the blade?" Ark'an spoke slowly, stepping forward onto the platform in a perfect and collected form; balancing himself lightly on his thick heavy boots and moving a lot nimbler then his age would suggest.  
The Shipmaster did not gain a reply, so he activated the white handle in his palm and let a large symmetrical explosion of red plasma explode out of the handle and form into a crimson energy sword that swung low and released red fragments of light onto the floor.  
"Let us begin!' Ark'an cheerfully spoke, dancing to the side and waiting for his opponent to make the first move.


	6. Chapter 6

The two large golden visor's stared each other down without comment, their arms interlocking roughly at the opposing individual. Then the golden Spartan IV growled and twisted his wrists so he could flick the blue warrior of him, sending his enemy smashing down to the steel metallic floor beside him. The other Spartan IV gasped as the air was blown out him, his chest impacting heavily with the armour and floorboards; then reacting quickly he looked up and managed to see the golden fist of his enemy rushing down to meet him; aiming roughly for his neck.  
The Blue Spartan IV rolled away from the descending fist, letting it crash into the cold floor and spark a small segment of cracks that rippled from North's knuckles. The blue armoured warrior reacted harshly, spinning his entire chest around while whipping his large white robotic arm up and around to smash down on the back of his enemy.

A gasp of pain escaped out of the golden warrior as the white arm successfully smashed down on his spine and set a spike of pain up his entire body. North groaned as he failed to move his limbs, his nervous system being temporarily ruptured.  
"Now stay the hell down" The blue warrior grumbled roughly, a complete devoid of emotion being replaced with harsh brutality; lifting up from the floor he grabbed the M9 magnum from his enemy and holstered it himself.  
And then without another comment to the downed commander he popped up and nodded to the unarmoured women in front of him, "Hi there, my name's Gabriel."

**Meanwhile**  
An explosion of energy ruptured through the centre of the training chamber, letting light blind the occupants and shards of plasma fling out onto the cold purple floor. The two large Sangheili warriors faced off against each other evenly, the purple elite prancing slowly around his opponent while the golden Zealot merely waited for another queue to swing his blue blade.  
"You stand as if rooted" Ark'an rumbled slowly, carefully rotating his large flickering crimson energy sword around his taloned hand as she spoke, "Be sure to use your surroundings at all times, they are the key to your victory."

Mort'ang growled menacingly, letting the anger of this Sangheili elder trying to direct him; fashion itself into pure fury. So he swung his blade, trying to catch the talking Shipmaster of guard but only managing to hit thin air.  
Ark'an spun away from his wild shot, successfully dodging it as he continued to speak, "Waiting for your opponent to make the first strike is crucial, with the skill of the blade you must endorse the sincerity of patience."  
"Just to let them strike me down!?" Mort'ang roared, irritated with his masters continued speech and unresolved teachings; despite his anger, this time he did not strike first and simply waited for an opportunity to cut this elusive elite down.

"Good!" The purple Shipmaster spoke proudly, backing up and down across the whole circular chamber and quickly striking again from the side; allowing the younger elite to barely manage to defend himself, "When it is time to strike, make sure to maintain the strength and precision of your blow; or it will merely fall short and you will become vulnerable."  
Mort'ang shook his head in frustration, trying to get through the strict and brutal disciplinary restrictions that he had been taught to do since he was a boy with these new more free sets of freedom. As the dual continued, two dark blue clad Sangheili stood to watch it develop out; something that the Shipmaster didn't seem to have a problem with at all.

"Be gone minors!" Mort'ang roared at them finally, losing all patience with the onlookers and letting his guard down when it came to the purple elite, however Ark'an did not use the opportunity to strike but instead spoke, "Their presence is of no hindrance to you, let your mind be placed on the matter of hand."

Mort'ang shook his head and rushed forward, barely focusing on what he was doing and instead letting rage fuel his efforts as he dived forward with the tip of his blade ready to skewer the Shipmaster from torso to neck. As the frenzied Sangheili jumped forward, the wiser and calmer elite merely dodged him and let the golden warrior smash straight to the wall behind him.

A blurry vision accompanied the half conscious royal zealot, letting his eyes slowly droop as his head slid down to the ground; his entire mind slowly slipping from the harsh shot he had received from running headfirst into the wall. Within seconds, the tough headstrong Royal Zealot had merely fallen as a fool to a wall; and was sliding into unconsciousness.  
"You have much to learn Mort'ang" The shipmaster spoke softly, draining his crimson energy sword of all energy until it merely became a white handle again.


	7. Chapter 7

"An exile, an outcast on the verge of oblivion" The slow voice ominously spoke through the chamber, hints of despair and hysteria hitting the high tone of the vocal chords. Flashes of red bounced of the purple chamber walls in dysfunctional harmony, causing more strange noises to emulate from the corrupted golden monitor system.

Recognisable Barrier of Testimony hovered through the large covenant corridor in a retarded and jerky fashion, his colour pallet shifting from the monochromatic gold to desperate surges of crimson at times. Two large forerunner promethean knights walked behind him slowly, their heavy and bulky triangular body frames prodding at the low ceiling as they followed their commanding monitor system.  
The oracle continued to lead them through the tight maze of corridors that would eventually lead to the cockpit of the covenant storm Supreme Carrier 'Infamous Fury'. A thousand and one thoughts ripped through the remaining sanity sections of his data core, as he vibrated violently; a segment of pain turned into pure cold anger as he remembered who had done this to him.

Rage started to overcome the golden monitor, surviving as a channel as the memories of his corruptive data core started to plague him; but soon enough he could channel that fury into something equally as violent. After realising that his entire data core had been completely corrupted with the propaganda of the Thunder and Covenant, he had slowly started to reassure his original set of code and sought out an emotion that was, until now, completely unacceptable for an entity such as himself. Anger was something new to an Oracle such as himself, but after been reacquainted with the hatred of the covenant; the Monitor realised the potential and quick acting resolve of this new emotion.

And so he continued to travel through the corridor, readying himself to properly speak and even strike down the Hierarch if need be, even if it was in front of his entire crew; if his forerunner masters had taught him anything, then it was that revenge was something that required an audience.

**Meanwhile**  
The resounding noise of a round smashing into a large red target echoed throughout the entire training room floor, it was almost as if every marine that had ever gone inside had simply started training just so they could hear the satisfying noise of the bullet hitting the target.  
Robert stood at the aiming rack of the whole room, firing a standard issue silenced SMG at the red patterned target that stood almost twenty metres away from his position; firing another volley frantically he managed to hear the familiar noise of his rounds not impacting with anything that he meant to.  
The lone ODST sighed to himself, looking around for anyone or anything that might motivate him to keep going. But as he hung his head low and breathed out slowly, he realised that there was no one left to tell him to keep going; everyone that ever really cared had become simple victims to the Thunder and even each other.

A figure entered the room quickly, creating heavy sets of the sound of footsteps and thus revealing himself to be clad in a heavy set of Mjonlir armour. The Hell-Jumper looked up sharply and hopefully, only for his head to lay low again as he saw the huge white Spartan IV known as 'South' enter the room. Surprisingly a friendly growl filled the atmosphere as the bulky warrior acknowledged Robert before turning his huge golden visor to the side and grabbing a set of weaponry to practice with.  
Robert returned back to his work, somehow motivated and pleased by the simple growl of the large Spartan; for him it was the little things that truly mattered and as he continued to fire a round of SMG bullets into the opposing target, a smile escaped his visor.

Suddenly voices echoed from the opposite side of the room, the harsh and cruel tone of the Spartan commander caused a shiver to tunnel down the backbone of the ODST. He hadn't forgotten the punch that had almost cracked his spine, North may have acted out of place at the time but that didn't excuse how he had legitimately almost killed the young and weaker soldier.

"South?" North called from the side, "I need your allegiance this time."  
The massive white warrior shook his head slowly, barely even noticing or caring about the upstart golden commander; it was clear that South was merely disgusted in the behaviour of his leader, especially after the betrayal of Lucifer.  
"That's an order Spartan!" North growled furiously, a large assortment of pent up rage starting to overflow in his system as his own soldier refused to even acknowledge him. South merely clicked his tongue impatiently, he was unimpressed and couldn't even be bothered with the conversation.  
The golden commander clenched his fists in frustration, preparing to try and physically persuade the white warrior; but after rubbing at his sore back and noticing how intimidating South really was, he decided to merely leave it alone.

As North left, the ODST walked up forward to the lone white warrior; standing by his side in defiance against the terrible excuse of a leader.  
"It goes to show, leadership should be given to those who earn it." Robert finally spoke, his tone betraying the pure hatred he felt for North.  
South growled in agreement, turning back and nodding to the lone hell-jumper before walking to the training room floor and resorting back to practicing the fine arts of death and destruction.


	8. Chapter 8 : Million in one

Mort'ang groaned outloud, slowly coming back to conscious thought as he reassured his position and setting. A growl escaped his thick entanglement of mandibles almost like a ferocious beast as he cuffed the side of his head in pain. Then with the resilience of a battle worn warrior, he stood up heavily on his thick pair of boots and aligned his body while cracking the side of his neck into place again. His golden armour was still securely aligned across his forearms and chest, but the head piece had been removed sometime when he had been unconscious, the Zealot looked around himself frantically but only managed to find an unwanted elite standing in front of him.  
"What do you want from me now?!" The Golden Zealot roared in fury, a broken voice being overridden by the animalistic urge to rip something apart in his taloned hands "Isn't it enough that I serve in your rule and lay under your blade!"

The torn voice acted almost like a whip, awakening the purple Shipmaster to the point where he knew something was definitely amiss with this young Zealot, no doubt the pressure of his journey and honour bound life was starting to weigh down on him.  
So Ark'an acted responsibly, stepping forward and throwing a white handle to the Zealot who managed to swiftly catch it with quick but strained reflexes. Levelling his large weathered face, the elite gazed down to pierce through the veil of anger that clouded the younger warrior before speaking, "Come warrior, let us train that sword arm of yours; then we may speak."  
Mort'ang paused for a moment, heavily resting his large reptilian head until he finally nodded and stood up; activating the blue blade of his energy sword and stepping into the sparring ring with his master, this time with the intention to learn and not to conquer.

"Where is my helmet?" Mort'ang requested quickly, rolling the blue blade around his wrist a number of times in anticipation.  
"I had it removed, you won't be needing such a device to protect you from within" Ark'an replied as if it were a matter of fact, "Besides, it would only limit your sight for the teachings you will undergo."  
"And what will these teachings do for me?!" The Royal warrior stepped forward roughly, typically thinking of his own needs above the collective good.  
"To better understand the use of the sword…" The purple shipmaster continued speaking, activating his crimson energy blade swiftly and walking around his pupil, "…follows the path to better understand yourself."

"I know how to swing a sword Shipmaster" The Zealot spoke deadpan, barely keeping up or caring of the teachings Ark'an was trying to convey onto him. To him; to lung a blade and to speak of spirituality were two completely of topic discussions.  
"The art of the blade more than the slaughter of others!" Ark'an roared back at him, allowing a small amount of anger immediately caused the younger warrior to shirk back in fear, "It is a key precision between the forces of brutality and humility"  
Mort'ang grumbled loudly, he knew which of the categories he truly fit under, but still he circled around the shipmaster and listened intently; any techniques of the blade that would better help in battle was surely something to trust.  
"Why did you lose so easily to me?" Ark'an asked suddenly, although he knew the answer he wished to test the young elite on his own failings.

The Royal Zealot brooded his shoulders, he wasn't aware that it was considered 'easily' but that went to show he required more practice with the blade; "I was rash and didn't think before I acted."  
"Very true" Ark'an nodded once, "And your lack of patience, lack of trust and humility bore you ill tidings before your hit could even place close to my own heart."  
A silence erupted from the two warriors in which they both prowled around each other, the younger elite mimicking the elder as they rushed together and clashed both blades together in a furious explosion of sparks.  
"Never put your whole effort into one blow, be prepared to fight across a hundred enemies with your blade" Ark'an remarked as he saw the Zealot puffing for breath already, "Simply use a light set of assaults, using your opponents strength against them."  
"How!?" Mort'ang roared, swinging his blade forward with a quick frenzy.  
"Like this" The Shipmaster replied softly, twisting his whole body around while cuffing his right fist to slam into the back of the Zealot; pushing him forward and allowing him to follow through with his strike in an uncoordinated movement until he fell to the ground.

Mort'ang looked up aggressively; the red blade hung right under his exposed throat and slowly started to be withdrawn from his proximity. The Shipmaster let him get back to his feet before he resumed a combat stance again.  
"Being light on your feet is crucial, but in order to weather the oncoming storm you must root yourself heavily." Ark'an demonstrated roughly, slamming one taloned foot to the floor and almost using it as an acknowledged system as he delivered more powerful strikes and slashes until he finally kicked the zealot down to the floor again.  
"How do you keep doing this?!" Mort'ang spat out a goblet of purple blood as he raised himself up from the floor again, "To dance like a demon but stay rooted like a titan!?"

"It is because I do not see you as one enemy Mort'ang" The Shipmaster drawled slowly, not stopping to explain himself until he finally asked, "What do you see when you look at me Zealot?"  
"I see a Shipmaster and a combatant" The Royal Zealot replied confidently, unsure where this was going.  
"Well you are wrong, for a true warrior of the blade does not see one individual as an enemy" Ark'an wisely spoke, "A true warrior sees the toes of his feet, the muscles of the thigh, the curve of the torso and every single particle that creates his enemy!"

The two elites faced off again, perfectly balanced on their taloned feet as they circled each other dramatically; their energy blades kicking of different shades of light but still serving the same purpose.  
"For an enemy is not in the sword, an enemy is not in the skull; the enemy is a million in one" Ark'an concluded proudly, swinging his blade to smash into the blue symmetrical sword of his pupil as he spoke.  
"A million in one!" He roared again, watching his opponent's feet move slightly to the right, feinting a left and cutting vertically with his red blade.  
"A million in one!" The Shipmaster confidently roared for the third time, dancing to the side and smashing his blade across before rooting himself and head-butting the Zealot straight across the whole room.

Mort'ang growled as he felt the bruise under his chest plate start to colour up, then locked eyes straight back to the shipmaster; stamped his heavy boot down and rooted himself to the floor while observing every limb and movement of his enemy, treating every particle as a combined effort that would attempt to overthrow him.  
And then when the opportunity arose, he rushed forward and slashed quickly, roaring out as he did so, "A million in one!"


	9. Chapter 9

"Admiral Drafter, you have an immediate broadcast coming directly towards you"  
The ONI specialist, and now a leader of seven large operational UNSC ships opened her eyes slowly, she had been expecting this broadcast for quite a while now.  
"Patch it through" The Admiral spoke briskly, readjusting her formal military top so it seemed more professional as she lined up her back in a strict regulated position. She was unclear what her superior was about to say, but whatever it was she needed to appear in top condition.  
The monitor of the cockpit flickered on harshly, blinding all occupants for a short duration until finally the face of Serin Osman filled the entire screen.

"Admiral Drafter" The ONI Director spoke confidently and with a pleased compassion, "I understand that you have complete control over the fleet now?"  
As the younger and less powerful ONI specialist nodded in agreement, Osman smiled and continued to speak, "Then I will direct my direct orders through you Admiral, as of this moment I expect all issues and commands to be issued through Navy directives and official instructions."  
"Very well Director" Drafter replied quickly, just as she had been trained to do, "What is to be done with the matter at hand? I sense that as soon as the Thunder has recovered its strength then it will slip-space to wherever it wishes to go."

"The violation of Genesis II is not something we have to forget Drafter, I want you tailing that fleet from the minute it leaves orbit, whatever data was evicted out of that forerunner data cannot be good news for us." Osman continued, looking down at her notes as if she was simply reading of a script.  
"Yes ma'am" The Admiral nodded quickly, listening intently to whatever her commander had to say before she could issue out orders of her own. She knew that the captains of their respective frigates would not be pleased with the order to jump out so quickly, but it had to be done.

"I want the storm to pay for what they have done Drafter, that is all; Director Serin Osman of station and communication." The image cut to hash roughly, leaving the cockpit with a dead end atmosphere, the orders to prepare for slip-space and the knowledge that their lives hung on a thread.

**Meanwhile**  
The intercom message relayed to all corners of the fleet, they had to pack up soon because chances where that slip-space jump was furiously coming towards them; they had to prepare themselves for combat and anything that awaited on the other side.

North shook his head as he heard the relay communication, the Admiral should have informed him and demanded his presence at that meeting; but even if she did he really doubted many of them would show up, after the catastrophe and Lucifer's sacrifice everything had turned to hell around him.  
As he started to head to the primary cockpit, something strange cut his track of and left him dumbfounded, it was the feeling that he was being watched. Then finally he turned around, clutching his fists tightly as he faced the blue warrior that had stood before him.  
"What the hell do you want!?" North growled at him aggressively, his back still hurt and he felt the need to reassure himself as the leader and commander of his squad.

Gabriel took one heavy step forward, cracking down on the ground and tightening his robotic white arm in a complete display of hatred, then his visor emanated the cold emotionless tone of this really pissed of Spartan IV, "I know it was you that left Lucifer to die, I know you made the call and basically stabbed him in the back yourself." His voice crackled sharply as he struggled not to lunge himself forward, the combined hatred of every member of his squad mate dying was uprising almost like the bullet in a chamber.  
North replied furiously, willing himself to step up and face off against the furious Spartan IV as he spat out, "He chose his own death, I tried to stop him."

The blue Spartan IV roared outloud, reaching down and grabbing the M9 magnum from his holster in a quick and frantic move before aiming it down the sights to the visor of his enemy. Gabriel stepped forward harshly and thrust the weapon right in the eye line of the commander, threatening him to the point of firearm death. His breathing was completely uncontrolled and wild; every emotive action of anger and loss was coursing through his body as he aimed this man down with a finger on the trigger and a resolve to kill him.  
"Lower your weapon soldier!" North whimpered loudly, torn between trying to control the aggressive Spartan IV or to focus on staying out of the situation alive.

Gabriel snarled animalistaclly, tightening his finger on the trigger; then as if every torrent of emotional output and frustration he had bottled up for almost two months came surging out of him and directed him towards doing on thing. To pull the trigger and kill this man, this murderer and this traitor.

Another growl answered him, it was almost like a warning before the hammer hit the anvil; as a large white image thundered down the corridor and slammed right into the magnum wielding warrior. South smashed the blue warrior straight into the ground with an immense fury, almost flinching as the gun went off and a bullet bounced of the his heavy barrier encasement of golden shields.

Gabriel slid against the wall slowly, his eyes fluttering as he forced himself conscious for a few seconds more; just so he could see that North was alive, and luckily enough the commander hadn't been hit by the bullet fired. The Blue Spartan IV smiled to himself as he relapsed into unconsciousness, he had never truly meant to kill the golden warrior; in his opinion the concept of death had been repeated to many times and he was sick of it.  
He was sick of death.


	10. Chapter 10

"So how are you holding up?" West slowly asked sympathetically, letting her tough outer-shell and attitude be overridden urges of simply looking after her squad mate. She wrapped her knuckles together slowly, waiting for a response as she sat on the chair opposing him.  
"I'm getting there." Gabriel replied roughly, he had removed his blue Mjonlir helmet but still held the bulky mainframe of his armour. After he left the commander to retreat he had gone straight to talk to West, only for her to invite him in to talk; if that suggested anything apart from a psyche check-up then he didn't care.

"I've read your file Gabriel, I know what's happened to you" West spoke softly, letting the facts speak for themselves; and after everything that had been torn through and out of his life, it was astonishing he hadn't started a drastic move yet.  
The blue clad warrior looked up from the twirling of his fingers, staring straight into her brown patterned eyes as he spoke, "Throughout my life I've been told to suit up, to do better and to continue fighting no matter what, so why would I think about it now?" He breathed heavily to himself as he spoke, "I'm not trained to."  
"Forced domestication is not your identity!" West demanded loudly, "Your hurt Gabriel, I can see that and no matter how much you try to bottle it in; it's just going to blow in your face and hurt those around you."

Gabriel mused over what she said, memories of when he had almost strangled an ODST sergeant to death and jeopardised his own life with foolish sparks of fury and acts of bravado. He nodded once to her predicament, agreeing what she said but unsure on how to proceed.  
"I won't begin to try to understand what you've lost and I know you probably don't care anymore" West continued to speak soothingly, calming the armoured man down, "But you have to promise yourself that you will never stop caring, because that's what makes us human."  
A growl escaped the blue Spartan IV as he breathed heavily, a gust of air escaping out of his thick maw as he spoke, "I've had this conversation before, I'm fine."

"I know, Robert told me about how Lucifer told you to get over yourself and stick to the task at hand" The female warrior continued, undeterred by his interruption, "But although that may have worked then, it's definitely not going to work now."  
"Why not!" He roared, standing up and releasing another gust of fury, "Because Lucifer isn't here anymore?! Go on you can say it!?" Gabriel clenched his fists as he loomed over the unarmoured women, then finally he calmed himself down and sat opposing her again. Keeping his head low he simply waited for West to make her statement of intent so he could leave.

Two cool hands wrapped around his knuckle's slowly, lifting his gaze so he stared straight into the calm eyes of the female, then majestically she spun her head and spoke softly, "I understand that the death of Lucifer still marks you, and that to exact revenge on North is something you must do, but there's another step you can take…forgiveness."  
Gabriel laughed outloud, cruelty and rage etched across his vocalisation as he spoke outloud, "You ask me to forgive him?"  
"Not him…I ask you to forgive yourself"

**Meanwhile**  
"Oh almighty Hierarch, the Thunder is ready for slip-space travel." The Sangheili operator bowed its large head low, mandibles scraping the purple floor as he spoke slowly.  
The prophet of Storm wrapped his long spindly fingers together in a loop, letting them tangle slightly as he thought to himself; both philosophical and spiritual thoughts were ripping through his mind as he mused on the final words, "Indeed it is, but are we? Are we even ready for such a jump into the simple nation of our gods?"  
"My lord, do you wish to halt your own plans?" The operator asked quickly, letting his own bewildered curiosity override his basic survival instincts.

"Of course not you imbecile" The Hierarch snarled at the lowly elite, turning his head back to the landscape of space and the disembodied remains of the human planet before he narrowed his eyes and continued, "It is merely the moment of realisation before the plunge, the breathe before the end…the death before the everlasting twilight of the heavens.  
He turned his large head to the pathetic assortment of human vessels that had initially survived, it would be so easy to simply kill them all but as usual; his heavily encrypted mind was set on the matter at hand and the bigger picture.

Finally he turned back to the cockpit, surveying over the assortment of operators and warriors that stood there before he spoke, "It is time to meet the gods."


	11. Chapter 11

The steel rimmed and reinforced room prepared itself with the rest of the vessel for quick slip-space travel; the interior starting to buckle as the harsh radiated engines warmed up with expectations to fire soon. As the room vibrated violently, the occupants almost lost their seating; only managing to settle themselves down after the movement stopped.  
"Jesus Christ it's getting worse" Gabriel commented from the seat, readjusting himself into a more comfortable position and looking back to the unarmoured female Spartan in front of him.

"Never mind the turmoil out there" West replied swiftly, jumping from topic to conversation in a swift leap; slowly she reached over and poked at his chest, "You need to fix the rage you have in here first."  
"HOW?!" The Blue Spartan IV roared outloud, slamming a fist down to the side of the chair and almost sending broken fragments flying in every direction. He took a deep breath and heaved his chest slowly up and down, trying to contain himself over the quick upsurgeance of rage and pent up aggression.

"You need to forgive yourself Gabriel, the first step of mending is to accept what has happened and realise that you couldn't have done anything else." West continued to speak calmly, unaffected by the half destroyed chair in her room now.

"But I could have!" The blue warrior stood up furiously as he roared to himself, clenching his knuckles in complete fury and pent madness, "It was because of me that he died! Both of them died because of me!" A scream erupted out of the Spartan, resulting in him punching the heavy steel wall with the strength of a demi-god…or an angel.

A set of tears started to lower down his cheek as he stared the white robotic arm that was currently embed inside the steel wall mainframe. Then finally he extracted the arm and looked at it, as if seeing it for the first time; it was a simple reminder, a wound that reminded him every day of how he had failed.

"You didn't fail them Gabriel" West said to him, coming across as the voice of reason behind the infuriated warrior, "They will join you in due time, but in the meantime they follow you…and would they wish to see you like this? Unpredictable and dangerous to your own allies?! You disgrace them!" She spat out, knowing that her words would aggravate the warrior and give her a response that would help him later.

The blue warrior roared out in complete pain, spinning around and aiming to punch the speaker; the visions of blood and battle sparking through his mind as he released the pent up anger by aiming hits to the elusive female warrior.

On her part, West dodged the wild shots with complete precision and adaptability of her surroundings; then finally as she dodged a rampant uppercut, she pushed forward and slammed into the rampaging Spartan IV so she lay upon him harshly on the ground.  
A struggle increased as the downed warrior attempted to rise up, only to be forced down again by the resilient female that interlocked his body by her tough reinforced arms and legs. Gabriel screamed outloud as he felt his real left arm being ripped away by the Harbinger, then again as endless memories of plasma and energy splashed and sliced into him; he squirmed and cried savagely as the faces of his companions cut into his mind until nothing was left but the face of West staring down at him.

Gabriel breathed loudly and heavily, releasing the anger and emotional sadness that had been ripping through his mind for months; and then finally he spoke to himself, full realisation and a calm voice used to ask, "Forgive me, I am so sorry."

West smiled from her position over him, readjusting her thighs so she wouldn't be pinning him completely in place, as she spoke soundly, pride in her voice and a tear in her eye, "I forgive you and I'm guessing that you forgive yourself."  
Gabriel nodded once, standing up from the floor and helping the downed team-mate to stand with him; then finally he brushed away the tear in his eye and chuckled loudly to himself, "Well if anyone walked in on us then that could have seemed suggesting."

West laughed with him, happy to be able to emotionalise completely as she spoke, a hint in her eye, "I just want you to know, Lucifer and Michael would have been proud of you." Then she walked up to him slowly, letting every step almost hypnotise the warrior until she reached down, grabbed him by the neck and kissed him full in the mouth.

**Meanwhile**  
"Admiral Drafter, the Thunder is entering slip-space rupture as we speak" A voice called out to her, letting the ONI official watch from a heavy monitor in the cockpit bay of the large Battle Carrier and leading flagship, 'Red Dusk.'

Drafter looked up from the monitor at her desk, to her crewmembers and then finally to the large spacial cosmos outside the large reinforced glass frame so she could see the massive fleet known as the 'Thunder' disappearing into a maw like teleportation of slip-space travel. She sighed as she looked down at the remains of Genesis II, despite the efforts of the UNSC not one civilian had survived the glassing; well not one that they knew about.

Turning her gaze to the six remaining frigates under her command, the Admiral breathed a sigh of both admiration and despair; so few had survived but at least they were with her to the end, the efforts that would follow would certainly write some history, if they survived or not.  
Finally she turned back to the operator in front of her, the pilot that was still waiting for the command that would not just settle the fate of every man and women in her fleet; but for every sentient living being in the universe.

And then she spoke, "Follow them, prepare all canister's for slip-space jump and radiational leaks, I want all vessels ready for the Thunder on the other side."


	12. Chapter 12: Righteous Mantle

A slow squeak echoed from the low drawn cavern hole, thick yellow liquid flowing down from the harsh rock and the continuous scent of death, disease and corruption. The entire deformed hallway led straight out to the sunlight, allowing the caverns to be lit up by the dual set of sun beams, not too much to scare of the occupants but enough to reveal their true forms.

One column in particular was heavily encrusted with the thick wet encasement of yellow infected resin, boils and dangling hairs running down the deformed line of saliva coated filth. The entire collection of puss and boils breathed in and out in some form of retarded breathing, almost as if the overindulgence of filth was some form of living forest; a forest of filth, a swarm of spotted galore and a flood of reckoning.

Suddenly an alarming sound erupted from outside of the cavern, the first noise that had been uttered in almost three billion years that didn't belong to the throat of an animal or natural caretaker of this deformed flood. Similar blasts of noise continued to orchestrate themselves throughout the entire planet; awakening many dormant species and creatures of death to the notification that it was indeed time to hunt yet again.

As if to answer the disrupting noise, one particularly large boil on the heavily encrusted column exploded in an eruption of liquid, slimy skin and a lightly tinted set of green gas. A loud contrasting shrill echoed from inside the mustard yellow sac, then suddenly a flurry of movement blossomed out of it; releasing three deformed figures in some form of demented flower arrangement.

The creatures fell to the floor heavily; allowing the many skinny limbs that held them to land first, the heavy sac on their backs had to be protected from all damage as it contained the most vital tool to their harvestation. One of the small creatures still clung to the wall, using the many limbs to attach itself to the thick slimy set of resin, two particularly limbs slowly releasing a flurry of red little finger like appendages that peeked over the column and released a heavy smell of disgusting residue and sickness.

The 'Spore' moved with surprising agility, jumping to one side of the column to the floor in one quick lunge of all its limbs and the heavy sack on its back. It bounced upwards and continued to sprint out of the chamber, using the thick set of red appendages to sense the smell and heat residue of the incoming sunlight and strange noises that emanated from outside.

It squeaked nervously as it set contact with the sun, an small eruption of gas releasing from the heavy sac on its back as it hurried out of the light and scrambled down to the forest below. As it moved down to the life, the temptation to infect the life that sprinted everywhere was high; but something stopped it from making a move, the collective mind of its species had been using the green forestation and leaving it alone in hopes to bring in any race that wished to live within the natural wonders of this shield world.  
And it had worked.

For even if the flood spore could not detect anything too far away with its tentacle apparatus, it knew that above him by miles came the descending purple ships of the covenant.  
The Thunder had arrived.

**Meanwhile**  
A bleeping set of lights ran through the entire purple cockpit, the loading process of the covenant analysis was at work. Currently the operators of the large Supreme Carrier and Flagship, the 'Infamous Fury', were analysing all sections of the shield world below them.

The Hierarch of Storm sat right at the edge of the cockpit, looking out the large reinforced cockpit window to the contrasting world below; it was heavily lacking with desert and water with the occasional exposure of green forestation and even the unusual eruption of mountain ranges, even some forerunner structures had revealed themselves as large silver pinnacles. It was hard to remember or even know that this planet was completely constructed with a basis of metal, the true world being hidden inside with a replica sun and the true destination of all of their journeys.

"The Righteous Mantle" The prophet drawled to himself slowly, taken back by a sense of awe and wonder at his finding; if everything went according to plan such as it had then to gain entrance inside the shield world would be something easy to tackle himself with.  
A large resounding echo of two boots sounded from behind the Hierarch, revealing the presence of the pitch black clad Harbinger and two smaller Sangheili honour guards.  
"Hierarch, I cannot seem to locate the oracle" The dark elite warrior spoke first, lowering its head quickly in tribute to the prophet as he twitched his tough fingers quickly together.

The San Shyuum crossed its arms together softly, he was unclear on the status of the oracle and barely wished to cross its path again, however it was un-needed for the journey and thus didn't matter to him very much, "It does no matter to miss what shouldn't be cared for, Harbinger I have a new task for you."  
But one of the honour guard elite's reacted swiftly, cutting of the conversation and speaking his complete mind, "Not cared for? O Hierarch are you aware we are speaking of the long lost oracles of fate? How can we not care for these devices?"

The prophet paused for a moment, considering beheading the irritating guard with a simple command but then thinking better of it. His entire mission here riveted on the combination of the covenant races, he knew that if they tore apart then years of planning would go to fruitless waste.  
And so he spoke, wisely and ceremonially, "The oracle was useful to us yes, but unfortunately its interaction with the filthy humans has left it inoperable to the Thunder; therefore we must overthrow the concept of worshiping it and tackle more practical tasks of our journey."

The honour guard's glanced at each other curiously, but agreed with the predicament left behind by the intelligent San Shyuum master. Then as the Harbinger dismissed them, they turned their backs in perfect sync and sheathed their energy swords; prowling outside of the cockpit in a duel set of confused minds.  
"I am sure they meant no harm Hierarch" The Harbinger spoke quickly, not wishing for any destruction to be pulled onto his race by the prophet's rage or religious testimony.

"Indeed" The Prophet of Storm chuckled to himself, pleased with the handling of the situation as he continued to command the elite, "We are about to descend onto the Righteous Mantle and complete the journey of our fore fathers Harbinger, but the access of these devices and worlds has always been left behind for the filthy humans,"  
The Black Sangheili clad official nodded with his master, not really caring for any of the forerunner knowledge and simply wishing for his next objective.

"The Reconciliation of Lies will be sent down to the shield world surface, I am personally tasking general Bremat with the search and activation of the Righteous Mantle" The Hierarch continued to speak, successfully setting out a strategic plan for their next move, then a smirk echoed from his long drawn face as he drawled, "But for you, I have a new task in mind."


	13. Chapter 13

A red siren blinked in and out of existence in a quick succession of life and death, illuminating the entire UNSC vessel in a bath of crimson plumage in and out again and again. The collection of human vessels fluttered in and out of existence themselves, pinpointing on physical and metaphysical dimensions as all six ships ripped through the blue haze of slip-space travel.

Gabriel groaned and opened his eyes as his entire face was bathed in the red light, almost as if a spurt of blood had rippled through the sky and descended upon his face. Then with a mighty yawn he woke and stretched his one good arm, a smile came upon his face as he came across the thought; did he have to stretch his metallic arm? The Spartan IV almost laughed as the question echoed in his mind, it was apparent that he was in a much better mood; it was almost as if he had been healed completely.

And then he looked to his left, realising why he couldn't move his other arm. A female figure lay at his side, hidden mainly by the blankets that encased them both and illuminated by the awkward monochromatic and regulated system of red light that struck them both. Gabriel smiled to himself again, but realised that he was to face the dilemma that all men faced at this point; because when it came down to it, was it more dangerous to wake a sleeping women or to remain unprepared for an assault with the covenant? It was unclear to the male Spartan and he still seemed to lack the mental resolve and willpower to wake her up; which was ironic due to the many battles he had faced but still rather humorous to him.

Finally she woke, the red light affecting her eyes as she rubbed her forehead and started stretching out her long legs in anticipation; then suddenly as she looked to her right something clicked inside her head and she smirked in a small extent of embarrassment. She chuckled with him and raised an eyebrow as he tried to extract his arm from underneath her, it was clear that if she hadn't woken up then there was no way he was going to get that arm back; robotic or not.

"I know this isn't the time" A voice called out from outside the room, as both Spartan's looked to the side they could see the friendly and familiar visor of the last ODST that had peeked his helmet in to check up on them, "…but where kind of on the brink of war so if you guys could get ready for battle that would be nice thanks."  
Gabriel chuckled to himself quickly, getting up and finding his undergarments and armour pieces scattered across the floor almost as if they had been ripped of his body and thrown away; which was probably what had actually happened. Then as he cuffed the encasement of regulated mesh on his body he spoke lightly, "We're getting there, we're getting there."  
"You better hurry, I think Drafter is going to spew if you guys don't show up on time." The ODST replied quickly, hurrying out of the room in order to join up with the other members of the Spartan Gold Squad.

The blue warrior watched him leave, a twinge of sadness in his chest as he realised that Robert was the last remaining member of his own squad; much like himself, it seemed that no matter their armour and enhancement, they really weren't that different. A smile initiated as he thought of talking to the ODST and getting to know him just like he had with Michael and as he clad himself in the chest piece of the blue sets of blue Mjonlir armour he spoke "Well it was worth it", knowing that the women currently lying down would understand the reference.

West laughed from her side of the bed, getting up swiftly and grabbing the armour mesh on the table so she didn't have to walk around wearing nothing but an army regulation bra, she refused to look in the eye of the male Spartan IV but he could tell that she was smiling.  
Which was ok, for he was smiling as well.

**Meanwhile  
**"Where the hell is gold squad?!" Admiral Drafter screamed in fury, she knew that her fleet would leave the blue haze of slip-space very quickly, and she required her squad of Spartans in order to formulate a proper strategic plan. The continuous flourish of blue light flickered past her cockpit window, revealing that they were still traveling in the everlasting loop and boost of slip-space teleportation and travel.

"Commander North reporting!" The golden Spartan IV leader announced himself on deck at the cockpit door, a DMR magnetised onto the back holster of his bulky Mjonlir armour. A much larger white bulky warrior stood with him, snarling out his appearance to all members presence as he crossed his tough arms and holstered the large stolen brute shot onto his back.  
Admiral Drafter pursued her lips as she looked onto the two Spartan's present, the fact that South never spoke was something that aggravated her even more then Lucifer's proposed silence but unfortunately the white Spartan IV simply did not speak, for no reason explained; so it was pointless to force a conversation out of him as he was tough as nails.

"Where is the rest of your squad?" The Admiral requested shortly, she knew that Gabriel had been reported as better but was unsure over his location as well as the final member of 'Gold Squad', and she knew that they would both be needed for her plans.  
Suddenly a radio communication broke through the usual silence; it was the broadcasting of the blue elusive Spartan IV, "Sorry about this, I'm coming up now…I was a bit preoccupied."  
Drafter's felt like swearing as she heard a women's laugh echo through the radio headset, in a time of war between two super forces the Spartan had to go out and do that? She let it go for now, letting it lie in her head until she could speak to him personally.  
She had more pressing matters to deal with currently.

"Ma'am, we are exciting slip-space travel now" An operator spoke quickly, letting his words carry out and capture the attention of all seven UNSC ships that quickly erupted out of the familiar blue haze of teleportation and cascaded into the thick atmosphere of reality.  
The Admiral, Spartan's and operators all looked out the large window as soon as the lightning and clouds of blue haze disappeared from sight, from their vantage spot they could see two large golden orbs hanging in the sky and serving as the suns for wherever they were. Closer inspection revealed the two orbs to be actually orbiting each other in an endless loop and dance, more stars lay billions of miles away but the rest of the solar system was remarkably barren.  
And then they looked down.

To see the massive shield world that lay below them, a huge perfect sphere that spanned over the size of the human world 'Earth' by at least two times. A large collection of deserts spanned the centre and bottom of the shield world, leaving the top quarter to be heavily populated with the thick green forestation and mountain ranges; even a few forerunner spires hung high over the green overgrowth.  
Drafter watched with awe at the massive world, with extensive knowledge of the forerunners she knew that not only was it beautiful and alive at the top; but in the middle of the world a replica of a sun would be heating another set of life and natural wonders that would host many different forms of beauty and mystery.

But as soon as she looked to her right, all moments of hope and mystery were over ridden with the appearance of the hundreds of covenant corvette's, battle cruisers, assault carriers and the one massive supreme carrier; together they formed the unstoppable Thunder.  
Together they formed the bane of mankind.


	14. Chapter 14

A massive thrust of purple gas erupted out of the engine of the Corvette, 'Reconciliation of lies' as the large covenant vessel descended quickly. A slow cascade of purple fliers started to unhook themselves from the primary corvette and swooped downwards to the earthy ground below. For its part, the Reconciliation of lies continued to travel down the thick atmospherical shell of the Forerunner shield world, 'Righteous Mantle.'

The golden general Sangheili shipmaster stood high and mighty over the selective races of the covenant that operated through the system courses of the Thunder corvette. Numerous Elite operators activated a numerous amount of holographic monitors as they directed the large amount of phantoms that were currently descending down to the green earth below.  
"Shipmaster, the human vessels have started assaulting the Thunder." One Kig-Yar pilot squawked harshly, both in fear of the general and the situation they had all fallen under.  
General Bremat growled at the prospect of him not being involved in the combat directly, after being issued with the command of the Reconciliation of Lies; he had been neglected completely in any form of violence, something he considered was even shameful.

"Continue to land on the surface, the Hierarch would not be pleased to hear that we have not captured the great cascade to open the Righteous Mantle." He finally snarled quickly, letting his mandibles slice together and spit a quarry of saliva onto the ground.  
"Yes O shipmaster, the Prophet of Storm would be pleased with your decision." Another Kig-Yar butted in quickly, trying to gain appeasement from his master on a path to more political power.  
Bremat narrowed his large slitted eyes in frustration over the irritating crew members in front of him, working with inferiors seemed to be a task set before him that would test his faith and tolerance not to slaughter all that annoyed him.

The General considered landing down on the planet himself, but his duties required him to stay with the ship and dictate the interception of the shield world. Even after destroying a demon personally, the Hierarch had not given him permission to enter battle however; something that had greatly angered the golden clad Sangheili.

**Meanwhile**  
"Bring all cannons online!" Admiral Drafter roared as she activated the shielding generators on her battle cruiser. The sound of blasts outside the stainless glass echoed throughout the entire atmosphere, goblets of plasma and sparks of energy seared through the sky and smashed straight into the unprotected hull of a singular UNSC frigate in one spurge of power and fury.  
"The Senate Treaty is taking a heavy beating out here!" One of the captain's roared out to her via her radio transmitter, the beating sound of alarms and fire echoing through the transmission, "We need assistance out here!"

The Admiral mused to herself, letting the pause allow a heavy set of thought process behind her skull until finally she spoke, "Pull back to the fleet Treaty, I need you in top condition for the rest of this operation; we'll take it from here."  
Turning her head back to her cockpit, the ONI specialist checked the progress of the rest of the fleet; pleased that they had all survived against the onslaught of plasma projectiles, despite this; the Thunder continued to fire ferociously and without any form of mercy. Smoke started to billow from the injured UNSC frigate, despite its retreat back into the fleet; energy projectiles continued to follow down and smash into the cracked metal hull of the ship.

"Get the Red Dusk closer over position of the planet." Drafter spoke quickly, jumping into action as a splash of energy rippled through the energy barrier of their Battle Cruiser vessel. She looked down to the green earth and noticed the covenant corvette that hung low over the planet, she could tell that it was going to be a problem. As the shuttle started to boost itself forward, she continued to speak, "Gold squad what is your current positioning?"

The radio crackled as North replied roughly, the transmission rather hazy after the continuation of radiation and plasma that sparked the atmosphere, "Were waiting in hanger bay C, pelicans are fuelled and ready for anything."  
Drafter confirmed the news, activating the outer bay doors of the hanger before stating her commands to the squad of Spartan's and marines under her control, "I want all fire teams inside any available pelican or drop pod they can get their hands on, the Red Dusk is entering the lower hemisphere of the planet in less than five."

But as she spoke, something completely unpredictable and destructive happened right in front of the whole USNC fleet. The Thunder continued to fire upon the human vessels with a furious passion, plasma lighting up the entire sky as every projectile spun through the atmosphere to crack into the UNSC frigates. Suddenly movement occurred, the large Supreme Carrier in the midst of the covenant fleet started propelling itself forward in an aggressive movement, within seconds it was firing a huge and powerful beam of energy straight towards the injured frigate.  
The Senate Treaty started cracking apart under the pressure, metal and fire spewing in every direction as the continuous torrent of 'glassing' splashed through its metal exterior until it exploded in a majestical explosion of plasma and billowing smoke.


	15. Chapter 15 : The enemy of my enemy

Golden light started to reappear on the long lost planet, it technically didn't have a name but had been patterned as 'High Peak'; the one lone system that had contained the original forerunner shuttle as well as started this second Great War between the forces of the UNSC and the Thunder alongside with the Storm. The dark solid soil still decorated a small pocket of the land; all forestation had been overridden with the now hovering orange and black forerunner shuttle that had been nicknamed the 'Saviour.'  
Three large triangular Promethean knights' slowly crawled over the large vessel, scanning its integrity through their special class vision as they chattered to each other quickly; golden particles slowly slipping out of the vertical visor slit as they realised the ship was completely untouched and barren of life.

"Oh so foolish" A voice called out from behind, it was the nervous but now aggressively resolved voice of the golden clad Monitor; Recognisable Barrier of Testimony. The oracle circled slowly around the entire vessel, illuminating the entire vessel as the small sphere like object entered the Saviour and activated it to life. The orange flashes across the whole ship started beeping as the whole vehicle's engine setting started powering up.  
"It seems that the dictation of my vessel has not been left unbecoming" Recognisable Barrier spoke to himself slowly, observing the entire shuttle with a renewed interest and means to operate. Two small control panels were quickly interacted with via the golden light of the oracle so the 'Saviour' started to leave the black soil of 'High Peak.'

As another set of Promethean Knights immediately teleported into the large sphere like vessel, the oracle looked down to them and spoke animatedly, a hint of anger and passion in the usual monotone excitement of the monitor, "This covenant has revealed its true colours, it is time to join with and assist the reclaimers."  
**Meanwhile  
**The undergrowth foliage was cut away roughly, leaving behind a path for the succession of covenant warriors to rumble through crudely. Green leaves and branches were quickly stepped on by numerous large boots as the first Sangheili minors foliaged through the thick forestation with plasma weaponry armed and charged. A squad of Unggoy and Kig-Yar stood behind all of them, all following the three Elite minor's and Major that led the whole group of warriors.

A low growl echoed throughout the entire procession, a warning for the whole squad to stop advancing and to monitor their surroundings; the large Crimson Sangheili Major had raised his muscled forearm and halted all forces under his control.  
"What is it Ossoona?" One of the two blue minors inquired quickly, rearming his plasma rifle in anticipation of humans or worse. Two grunt minors punched at the ground quickly, irritated with the heavily oxygenated atmosphere; they preferred the methane rich sky but had not found it upon the shield world of 'Righteous Mantle.'  
The Major sniffed the air quickly, allowing the scent of the natural undergrowth and wildlife to fill his nostrils; but something was tainted in the air, something that smelled of disease and corruption. The Ossoona growled and activated the Needle Rifle in his taloned paw, letting all forces under his control realise the danger they were in and reacted accordingly.

"The air is filled with the scent of death" A minor spoke philosophically, activating his Storm rifle and stepping forward heavily onto the broken branches and undergrowth. The squad of covenant growled nervously together, spanning out to aim at all sides as the scent intensified as the corruption gained speed closer.  
An unhuman and unholy howl ruptured through the atmosphere, causing all forces to immediately shirk back in fear as a sickly screech echoed through the foresty undergrowth, the Unggoy started retreating from their stations; only stopping when the major turned back and growled at them to hold their ground.  
Suddenly one of the grunts screamed out in fear and desperation, its neck being twisted back as it was dragged into the green undergrowth by the strength of an unknown being. The Kig-Yar squawked and fired at the disappearing body, only for them to be ambushed by another volley of unknown creatures that leapt onto them and dragged them to the floor.

The Ossoona roared as at least half of his company screamed as they were dragged into the unknown chasm of the forest, he reassured the courage of his final remaining warriors and set forward into the clearing that was now lacking of known life.  
As the Major listened out for any sound that would betray his enemy, he saw a nearby tree that immediately sparked his interest, as he stomped over to the disfigured vegetation; the scent of disease and corruption was filling his entire being.  
The Crimson Sangheili paused and lowered his needle rifle, grabbing a hold of the vegetation and wiping his paw down so he could grab the dripping liquid that oozed out of it. It was some form of brown sickly resin, completely infecting the tree and hideously deforming it beyond measure.  
As the Elite sniffed the infectious liquid that now encased his hand, a shriek pierced his small ears and movement captured his attention quickly; a small circular object with flailing tentacles had lunged itself at him; unwrapping its limbs so it could suffocate the Sangheili.

A comical pop erupted as the creature blew, the Major's blue energy shields appearing as they defended him from certain death. The Ossoona shrieked in momentary fear, stepping back and rearming his Needle Rifle so he could fire upon the hundreds of spores that flung themselves towards the survivor's.  
One of his minors fell loudly, smashing into the green foliage as he wrestled with a numerous number of spores that now attempted to suffocate and infect the creature with their many tentacles. The last remaining Kig-Yar and Unggoy screamed as the overwhelming numbers quickly ran them down and suffocated them with sheer mass and tentacles.  
The Major screamed as every last member of his original squad had been cut down by the corrupted enemies, large singular needle projectiles spun low and smashed into the spores; letting them explode with one single round as the Elite fired onto the incoming mass of flood.

Movement occurred from behind him, as the Ossoona witnessed with a horrific look etched upon his reptilian face; one of the original blue minors started to stand up, hideous deformities and tentacles erupting out of his own skin and through his armour. He howled forcefully, the mandibles of his face becoming over elongated as more boils grew out of his face.  
The diseased Sangheili roared at the Major, struggling to rush forward as muscles spasmed throughout its entire body and tentacles creeping through his armour and out of its chest.  
For his part, the Crimson Elite did not hesitate; no words of comfort or question on his mandibles as he opened fire straight into the exposed skin of his once former ally; he knew that as soon as three needle projectiles would combine then his enemy would be ripped apart.

Over five pink rounds smashed into the un-natural skin of his enemy, but for some reason they did not initiate their primary function and explode; something about the corrupted skin of the diseased creature stopped the needles from detonating, it was almost as if they did not recognise it to be proper flesh.  
And as the Major watched with dismay, the projectiles failed to fire and he could only scream as he was circled and cut through numerous times by the unstoppable hunger of the Flood.


	16. Chapter 16

Smoke thundered upwards as the UNSC vehicles descended down to the earth, plasma and energy soaring through the sky and impending to slash through the heavy metal of the pelicans. Four of the large carrier vessels had been released from the large Battle Cruiser 'Red Dusk' and were currently heading straight down for the shield world 'Righteous Mantle.'  
A large goblet of plasma smote the side of one descending vessel, a plumage of fire and smoke erupted as the entire pelican's right wing was dissolved in the mere heat of the energy burns and scar. Clusters of metal were flung in all directions as the Pelican continued to blow in a fusion of flames and lightning, then with a spectacular explosion the entire vehicle blew up, in a striking five thousand metres above the thick overgrowth of green forestation. Marines screamed as they were thrown out of the destroyed remains of the vehicle, bodies falling from the sky to land heavily onto the forest undergrowth of the shield planet.

The last two Pelican's escaped the barrage of plasma unscathed, quickly descending down through the thick overgrowth until they landed straight on the broken branches, grass and leaves that covered the floor. Wind howled heavily until the engines cut out, leaves returned to fall to the ground and everything was left silent. With a cynical hiss, the main cockpit backdoor opened quickly; letting the squad of Spartan IV's and Marines to exit the vehicle quickly and reassure their position.  
Gabriel crouched down onto the heavy foliage, letting his blue clad knee sink in to the undergrowth as he aimed down the sight of his UNSC sniper rifle at anything that moved around in the clearing of vegetation. The rest of the squad slowly positioned themselves around the clearing, awaiting themselves for any commands by the Spartan leader.

"Man this is different" Gabriel breathed in slowly, taking in the natural beauty and wonder of his surroundings with an optimistic attitude. West cocked her head to the side and watched the blue warrior observing the vegetation; a smile overcame her military regulation as she saw the new optimism of this once broken man.  
North looked back to the pelican, cocking his DMR from his back holster so he could onto it as he spoke through his radio transmitter, "Status pilot 5 Alpha?"  
One of the pilots shook his head at the Spartan IV through the glass cockpit, tapping at the sky as he spoke, "We'll be waiting for your return, I really don't want to take off while that Corvette is still in the sky; keep all orders on open radio contact."  
"Affirmative pilot, keep yourself posted for our progress." The Commanding Spartan IV spoke briskly, arming the rifle roughly and stepping forward through the foliage of trees, "All right, I want the nearest high ground to be ours; everyone sticks together and reports in to me, let's move people!"

The group progressed forward together, slowly navigating through the progressing undergrowth with an ear on their radio's and fingers on their triggers. The four Spartan's led the squad of marines with dignified silently, the only communication being uttered as they found themselves on a large hilltop looking out to vegetation below.  
"Contact", the Blue Spartan IV spoke briskly, aiming down his sniper sights at the succession of covenant warriors that were traversing through the undergrowth. A large group of Sangheili minors and Kig-Yar scouts were ripping through the forestation, two burly armour clad Hunters finalised the whole group; creating an impressive formation of Storm might.  
North growled and replied roughly, "All-right squad, tailing that group will no doubt lead us to the Intel that the Admiral is dying to get." The marines and Spartan's nodded quickly, slowly traversing down the hilltop and scouting the formation of covenant warriors.

As Gabriel meant to join them however, the commander put on his arm and stopped him roughly before speaking, "I want you up here on overlook"  
"What happened to staying together?" The Blue Sniper replied aggressively, knowing that North merely wished to keep him away and hating him for it.  
North breathed heavily, an aggressive tone and finger tight on the trigger as he roared back, "You're description calls you a Sniper! Or have you forgotten your own skills, whatever they may be."  
Gabriel calmed himself down, letting his chest rise up and down as he looked at the visor of West; then finally he nodded and agreed, "Very well, I will position myself as overlook."  
The group separated into the foliage, leaving the Sniper Spartan IV to watch through his scopes down in case something was attempting to creep up on the squad; but luckily it was only them that did the sneaking, hiding their profile as they stalked the covenant group and followed them at a distance.

"Hey tough guy" West spoke through the intercom sharply, "You better not be scoping out my ass, this armour does hell to my figure."  
"Trust me, if there was anything wrong with your figure then…" Gabriel started speaking, cutting himself off as something happened; something that caused him to scope through the sniper and concentrate at the occurrence.  
"Lost for words? Am I really that mesmerising?" West laughed sharply, her own humour slowly breaking the ice that had been formed through the whole group.  
"Hold up squad" Gabriel replied quickly, all jokes gone and replaced by strict regulation and military controlled tone as he spoke, "The squad has just stopped, they seem to be investigating a clearing."  
"Affirmative" North replied sharply, "I want complete radio silence from now on, no more mushy talk from you two."

"Yeah…" A third voice spoke, the voice of an ODST by the name of Robert, "It's kinda disgusting, you two are like super soldiers; did your room even survive when it…happened?"  
"Oh I wouldn't go into that if I were you." West laughed quietly, letting her jokes continue to halt the awkwardness between them all, "But I do feel sorry for whoever needs to clean up that ship."  
"I said radio silence!" North snarled ferociously, attempting to gain complete control over his squad; a hint of jealousy released in his tone, something that only appeared to aggravate him more.  
"I say North" The female warrior continued without a beat of pause, enjoying her position over the leader as an act of revenge, "Your voice seems to have gone an octave higher since that accident which may have occurred and might again if you're not careful."

A growl cut them all off, it was the tremendous warning and sign of aggravation of the large white Spartan IV 'South', he turned his large visor to all of them and growled again to shut them up. Then arming his brute shot he looked forward to see the large assortment of Covenant that had amassed in the clearing.  
"What are they doing?" West asked slowly, remaining relatively quiet so she wouldn't infuriate the large white Spartan IV.  
"It looks like their investigating corpses" Gabriel replied quickly, his additions acting as the voice of reasoning. Although he did sound rather awkward and unsure of the situation, clearly not stating why they were doing so.  
"What the hell" Robert broke radio silence with complete confusion, "Are these guys into necrophilia or something, I mean hey it wouldn't surprise me."  
"Those corpses don't look normal" The Blue Sniper replied deadpan, no emotion or understanding in his tone, "They look kinda infected."


	17. Chapter 17

The blade was swung around and around, never ceasing and never resting; cackling blue energy spilled to the floor as the sword was repeatedly twirled in circles and random dabs at an unseen and unknown enemy. Mort'ang growled as his arm started to burn, he had been practicing with his blade for over three hours now but had still not mastered the weapon.

"Calm yourself youngling" A voice called to him, it was the Shipmaster Ark'an that had spoken to him; concern etched unto his face as he looked for any injury that may have been placed due to the Zealot's over training, "The mastery of the sword is not something to obtain by injuring yourself, you must slow down and sustain the mentality of it as well."

Mort'ang agreed with the purple Shipmaster, turning back and deactivating his energy sword; stomping over to seat himself at a hovering chair he spoke, "I never realised that the blade required a philosophical mentality."

The elder clad Sangheili chuckled loudly until he finally admitted, "It doesn't, but I can guess that you do." His words weighed lightly on the younger elite; evidently the royal zealot cared not for mentality over physical training.

"Ark'an with all due respect, I do not require mentality to serve my role in the covenant" The Golden Zealot grumbled stiffly, not wishing to indulge in such a trivial conversation, "I can smite humans with my blade, not with philosophy."  
"You would be surprised what you may smite with philosophy" The Shipmaster replied indifferently, lowering his heavy frame to seat himself down, "Even the humans adopt the concept of mentality."  
Mort'ang growled savagely, fists tightening as he rumbled, "The pathetic humans should do well to learn it; it will distract them from the cleansing that will consume them all."  
"You dislike the humans?" Ark'an inquired slowly, treading carefully on already ruptured soil.  
"The humans are the enemy of the Covenant; they are filthy worms that deserve to be crushed into dust!" The Royal Zealot roared at his master, allowing aggression to slip out without notice.

Ark'an stepped up roughly, turning his back to the lowly Zealot as he pronounced, "It is natural to dislike your enemy, but the humans are not deserving of hate; they fight with honour and passion, and they strive for something that you could never even imagine…their existence."  
"How dare you!" The Golden Warrior stood up in complete fury, allowing his own religious affiliations to influence his answer, "Those filths are miserable beings that stand in our way, to ignore that makes you a non-believer in the covenant."  
"After spending so much time with these humans I am surprised that you do not respect their way of life" Ark'an quietly mumbled, allowing his curiosity to roll over reason.

"I had been blinded by the teachings of my blasphemous master!" Mort'ang screamed at him, trying to lift of the ideal that he understood humans; replacing it with simple rage.  
Ark'an stared at the Royal Zealot for a long time, finally sighing and turning his back on the other Sangheili; walking away in complete disgust as he spoke, "I wished you to be better than the brutes you serve, but it seems that most of my race is set out to disappoint."

**Meanwhile**  
The purple cockpit was blown into life, lights beckoning from all sides and different species of covenant rushing up and down the line to utilise weaponry monitors. Two large Sangheili guard's stood at the base of the whole room, awaiting their leader to enter the main control room. Suddenly a large purple armour clad warrior briskly walked through the room, the Shipmaster had finally come to restore order unto the rest of his crew.  
"Utilise fuel cells to maximum capacity, all cannons need to be direct unto the enemy" Ark'an spoke roughly, immediately capturing the audience, attention and obedience of every species in the room.

"Shipmaster" One of the Unggoy pilots piped up, its voice small but resounding with a statement, "A number of small human vessels are retreating from one of the primary shuttles, should we open fire onto them?"  
"No" Ark'an replied without hesitation, scratching at his chest as he spoke, "Leave them to live and fight another day, focus your artillery on the functioning vessels."

The crew members acknowledged his orders and continued to fire on the second large USNC frigate, letting volleys and goblets of plasma rip through the sky to smash into the primary hull of the human vehicle, smoke and fire billowing from the hole left behind. A huge round impacted with the side of the covenant vessel quickly, leaving a flicker of blue shields to react and respond; it seemed that even though the humans were outnumbered and outmatched; they would fight until they fell upon the thousands of projectiles. This was something that pleased the Ship-master; they fought with more honour and endurance then most covenant members he personally knew.

Suddenly something new appeared on the covenant radar scanners, something small but with alarming  
radiational properties. As covenant members squawked in fear and anticipation, a massive round impacted with the top side of the 'Reckless Bloodshed', letting the shields deplete in one single projectile of yellow light.  
"What is happening!?" Ark'an requested quickly, trying to overcome the initial rage with simple reasoning and logic. To have an Assault Carrier's shields to be destroyed in one round was something that only forerunner weaponry could ever achieve, which begged the question; what was firing upon the covenant force of Thunder.

The cockpit windows opened, unleashing a large impact of the yellow dual suns into the interior of the vessel; but as the Shipmaster looked out, he could see more than just the forces of Storm and the UNSC. One relatively small irregular vessel stuck out of the atmosphere, it was impacted with black and orange flashing hues circling the forerunner vehicle as it fired more golden blasts at the Thunder.  
It was the 'Saviour', the Forerunner shuttle that had been manned by the Oracle; Recognisable Barrier of Testimony and the numerous Promethean Knights under the monitor's command.


	18. Chapter 18

The thick foliage of green forestation had quickly changed from its usual natural plumage to something more diseased and corrupted; elongated hairs, boils and rivers of yellow ooze dripped down the once majestic vessels of environment. South growled as he surveyed the nearest trees around him, it was un-natural the way they seemed to breathe; defying all laws of life forces by simply being alive. Nearby his Spartan team-mates and an extra squad of marines were also monitoring the strange change in the undergrowth, firearms had been checked and ready for combat; they knew that the covenant forces were nearby and were prepared for anything.

A howl interrupted the usual tranquil silence, sending all human forces into states of panic and self-preservation as distant shriek's and yowls continued to screak through the forest undergrowth; causing the USNC soldiers to rush forward to the incoming sounds.  
"Your right outside the clearing" Gabriel's voice broke through their radio silence, helping the soldier direct themselves into a position to overlook what had actually happened to the squad of Storm warriors.

South narrowed his eyes grimly as he watched over the grisly scene; even through his regulated air helmet he could smell the disgusting corruption of all corpses. The clearing was covered with the filthy encasement of resin, corpses and swollen boils overlapped each other in an undecipherable harmony. Small spore like creatures had latched themselves onto the few recognisable corpses, the Sangheili and Kig-Yar warriors becoming harvested slowly into similar members of this 'Flood.'  
"Jesus Christ!" North whispered aggressively, speaking rather loudly and foolishly in the presence of this new threat and form of enemy. The White Spartan IV felt like ripping the idiotic commander's arm off, but then as he remembered the blue Sniper he realised that definitely wouldn't be enough.

An agitated hiss slowly ascended through the smoky haze of the clearing, small spore's turning their tentacles in the direction of the noise and large lumbering infected figures starting to rise, enlarged bones and muscles erupting violently as the combat forms howled in desolation.  
One marine started to weep as the forces lumbered forward, all courage and fortitude being overridden by the simple horror element of this new aggressor. As if the flood could sense the fear, an inhuman hiss erupted out of the usual howls and screech's, the combined sound acting like a noise prepared for hell.  
"Open fire!" Gabriel roared from above, the only soldier that had not been affected by the alarming sight of the Flood; as his distance proved them only to be targets in his scope. The Spartan's roared in approval and pushed up, firing all rounds they possessed at this unsatisfied and indestructible flood of corruption and disease.

**Meanwhile**  
A pulsating golden round smashed into the hull of the Covenant Corvette, creating an ominous plumage of fire and plasma as it cut straight through metal outer structure and sliced through completely until it was split in three even hunks of purple metal. However the destructive blasts did not stop, merely switching targets from the destroyed smaller vehicle to the large Assault Carrier 'Reckless Bloodshed'; slicing through its outer barrier and shields like fire through paper.

Goblets of plasma had now been directed on the forerunner shuttle, splashing against its heavy shielding with no apparent effect; only for the golden rounds to return fire successfully and cut through the tough purple metal of the 'Reckless Bloodshed.'  
Ark'an growled as the shielding of his vessel was depleted with one single strike, leaving his crew vulnerable against more of the forerunner particles. Light and plasma flickered from all sides as the Shipmaster continued to master the Storm vessel, commanding the various species of the covenant to man all cannons and sustain the failing energy shields of the 'Reckless Bloodshed.'

"Ark'an!" An image flickered onto the monitor inside the cockpit, it developed and transformed into the relay of the young Royal Zealot 'Mort'ang' in combat with an unseen enemy, "The hull has been breached, the Promethean Knights have turned against us!"  
A hideous screech ripped through the sound system of the monitor, betraying the presence of one of these legendary golden Forerunner warriors. The Purple Shipmaster watched as he saw the Zealot slash at another knight, twitching his mandibles in anticipation before stepping up and grabbing the white handle form his thigh holster.  
"Let us stand together!" Ark'an roared at the forces under his command, activating the crimson energy blade into a symmetrical plumage of cackling red light and plasma. Rushing forward, the elder led the formation of Storm Pilots, all of which were carrying weaponry of different assortments, until finally he smashed into the back of a Promethean Knight; letting his blade stab completely through the large triangular back and cut upwards so its back literally fell apart as it dissolved.

Mort'ang rushed up to his side as soon as the elder Sangheili had gripped his red blade out of the dissolving remains of the former Forerunner 'Guardian' Knight. They stood side by side, perfect symmetrical images of blade wielding Elite's that slashed at any Golden Promethean warrior that was foolish enough to get into reach.  
"For the homeland!" The Purple Shipmaster shouted out as he flung a blue cackling grenade to stick to the chest of another Knight, blowing it into small fragments until it dissolved completely from view; sending a cluster of silver lighting across the purple cockpit and shattering the blue hard-light barrier of nearby enemy.


	19. Chapter 19

Brown liquid descended down to the thick green foliage of the ground, the movement awakening a deep hunger and hatred inside the corrupted and demented creature, all limbs flailing as large hunks of flesh and bone were roughly repositioned to become more lethal; finally a howl escaped out of the combat form. Without any hesitation the diseased monster gaped its mouth open, letting red tentacles escape out as the whole creature lunged forward, with one demented paw grasping a plasma rifle and the large hewn and barnacled blade being used as a weapon for its second remains of a hand.

Suddenly a large and furious bullet smashed into its side, sending hunks of flesh flying in every direction but not halting the creature from advancing; another volley of sniper rounds obliterated the creature until it lacked basic understanding of life, but it still advanced.  
Lunging forward, the harvested flood form jumped surprisingly quickly and landed ferociously onto the body of the closest UNSC marine; without hesitation it stabbed its blade straight into the human's chest and let tentacles erupt out and sink heavily into the red flesh of the soldier.

South growled quickly as he saw the helpless marine being harvested savagely by the flood combat form, leaving the Spartan IV to quickly cock the side of his brute shot and reload it with intentions to blow apart the forces of the Flood. A seizure of golden light appeared around him as spores attempted to latch themselves onto him, only to be stopped by the energy barriers oriented around him. Without noticing, South looked down in horror at the sight of the marine starting to howl with the rest of the corrupted creatures; tentacles and bones jutting out of the human's chest and right arm ferociously. The White Spartan IV looked to his side and realised that two marines were being harvested much like this one, small flailing spores inserting their tentacles into the exposed faces of the humans; transforming them into monstrosities such as the Flood. Soldiers were running away, Spartan's were screaming and firing at anything that moved; and the infected creatures simply closed in for the kill.

South roared in complete refusal of giving up, firing his brute shot in quick blasts that not just blew apart the bodies of the flood but also pushing them backwards to the hell spawn they flowered from. Then with a savage move, the White Warrior jumped forward and smashed his brute shot bayonet down on the exposed back of the combat flood; carving the creature completely in half with a burst of yellow gas and brown hulky mass. A howl continued to echo through the remains of the combat form's face, only for the whole deformed head to be literally stepped on by the crazed Spartan IV.

More flood spores attempted to jump onto him, only for his barriers to push them aside effortlessly; but slowly diminishing as they did so. Suddenly something larger jumped straight onto the large Spartan IV from the overgrowth vegetation above, it quickly knocked him to the growled and screeched ferociously in his face. South growled harshly as the flood combat form attempted to penetrate the golden shields that encased him, almost depleting them perfectly. Then without a hint of warning, the white warrior reached up and snapped the neck of this once human flood form; it snarled at him, completely unaltered with the loss of backbone until it was finally kicked away.  
South roared as the creature fell to the floor, scrambling like a upturned spider as it tried to get up; only for the White Spartan IV to jump up and smash the bayonet down into the mass hulk of the flood form, then with a brutal twist he ripped the brute shot out and left the Flood for dead.

"Pull back!" A voice brought the Spartan back to reality, calming him down but not be-ridding him of the animalistic brutal urge to kill any Flood in front of him.  
South turned back to see North and West retreating through the foliage of vegetation with a few remaining marine's. But just as he turned to join them, a small flood spore jumped up and attached itself around the exposed and unprotected neck of the large white Spartan IV, trying to strangle and insert its tentacles in order to infect him. South roared as he attempted to rip the parasite of, it was tougher then it looked and only stopped when a UNSC sniper round smashed through its sac and popped it almost comically.

**Meanwhile**  
"Send these beasts into the abyss!" Ark'an roared in fury and passion, lunging forward and completely decapitating the miniature skull of a Promethean Knight; letting it fall to the ground and dissolve completely into fragmented particles. But as soon as one fell, another would take its place; this one wielded a heavy scattershot firearm in one elongated arm, the rounds pierced through the Shipmaster's shields but were ceased as soon as Mort'ang appeared behind the creature, slicing of its firing arm before stabbing it heavily into the large triangular back.

As covenant warriors and species fell under overwhelming particle rounds, themselves being transformed into mere flashes of gold until finally only two Sangheili warriors remained in the main hull; standing back to back and fighting of the horrendous and never-ending tide of Promethean Knights. Mort'ang danced and parried the many enemies that opposed him, jumping backwards and forwards with a quick hack and slash that was repeated by his mentor, Ark'an used every technique and calm sense of serenity possible as he defied death countless times while defending his pupil and killing the Knights by the hundreds.

"A million in one!" Mort'ang roared as more Knights teleported in to their position, firing their firearms or attempting to slash their blades; but all ending up in the same way, quickly taken out and ripped apart by the combined strength of both Sangheili sword masters.  
"A million in one!" Ark'an growled in agreement, pleased that his pupil had remembered that fundament teaching as the purple Shipmaster quickly threw his crimson energy blade to embed itself into the chest of a knight; only for Ark'an to jump forward, rip the blade out and slash at another.

The Promethean Knights quickly outnumbered and surrounded the two final Sangheili, creating a huge circle of inevitable death; but still the Elite blade wielders fought with resilient battle hardened strength. Finally the lead Guardian Knight stood forward, an impressive massive golden Promethean with a hovering halo in front of its visor and an Incineration cannon in its arm.  
As the Elite's watched with dismay, the lead Knight growled and unleashed a torrent of golden light to fall to the ground as it opened its vertical slit and armed the large cannon in its right arm; with one blast it could easily rip apart both Sangheili.  
But something stopped it, a flicker of light echoed from every single Promethean knight in the hull and around the entire shield world; the golden light was overridden by a blue haze that quickly eliminated every single of off the knights. Then as if they had been informed with a new task or overridden with a more important sole objective, they completely ignored the Sangheili and teleported out of known existence.

"Was that a victory?" Mort'ang asked hesitantly as both Sangheili looked to each other in confusion, almost all forces on the Reckless Bloodshed decimated and the invading force retreating.  
"In due time my pupil" Ark'an replied thoughtfully, rubbing at a particle inflicted wound in his leg as he finalised, "You will see that in the fields of war, there are no victors; there are only survivors."


	20. Chapter 20

A small leaf unattached itself from the brown branches, cutting through the overgrowth of forestation and falling down gracefully until it finally lowered itself onto the over coating green floor. Where it was immediately stepped on and crushed, automatic weaponry resounding throughout the entire vegetation and the haunting howls, screeches and screams of the damned and infected.  
Three large Flood combat forms lunged over a fallen log, screeching mantically as they threw themselves at the retreating enemy; UNSC round cut through their flesh and blew them slowly apart, but never stopping the relentless enemy.  
"Get back to the pelican!" North shouted at his squad mates, hysteria and complete fear impacting his vocal box as he fired his last magazine of his Designated Marksman Rifle.

South grumbled as he retreated through the thick foliage, firing his brute shot harshly at the never-ending swarm of flood; even the thick vegetation had started to work against the squad of marines, serving to hide the corrupted combat flood forms.  
High above them all, on the high peak of the hilltop; a large blue Spartan IV crouched over his sniper rifle and fired readily at any corrupted being that would attack his squad mates. Thick streaks of light thundered down to seek the flesh of the Flood, almost letting him act like a guardian angel; much like his namesake.

"I'm covering you now, just move your arses to my position; the pelicans are standing by." Gabriel spoke roughly, letting his sniper rounds smack back two combat forms in one singular shot; bones, flesh and blood erupting out of the corrupted creatures but not stopping them advancing, leaving the demented monsters to continued rush forward.  
Suddenly an echoing sound blasted throughout the entire forest, alarming both the human forces and even the might of the Flood to simple confusion. A numerous flash of blue sparked throughout the entire vegetation, teleporting in a large collection of Promethean 'Guardian' Knights into the battlefield. A large forerunner vessel appeared over the northern forest as well, its ominous presence sending a spike of memory and anger up the blue Spartan IV.  
"You got Prometheans down there! Watch your corners" Gabriel roared through his microphone, attempting to differerate against the merciless forerunner warriors and the remorseless flood forms.  
But as he prepared to aim down the sights and shatter the head of a knight, as he watched the creatures he realised they were solely focused on dissolving the flood combatants. They didn't even look at the retreating humans, instead they fired all particle weaponry and cutting down the advancing flood.

"You think their friendly?" West spoke hurriedly, the tiredness and exhaustion displayed as she ran up the large hilltop with the rest of the squad; luckily not suffering any losses as the Prometheans tore through the forces of the flood with ease.  
"I don't care" North resolved as they all ran towards the parked pelicans, letting the blue Sniper lead them into the clearing that held their escape vehicles, "Let's get the hell out of here soldiers, we need to get the hell back to Red Dusk."  
As they amassed around the two parked pelicans, Gabriel looked back at the marines and spoke quickly, "Are you sure none of you guys got attacked directly? Bitten or anything?"  
"Were fine" Robert answered for them, stepping forward so he could enter the prepared vessel before screaming out in fear; a large combat flood form had flung itself out of the pelican and landed on him brutally. The pilot, it seemed, hadn't survived the waiting stage of this operation; quickly becoming the enemy he had sworn to destroy.  
The ODST screamed in fear as the flood creature slashed his chest piece in half, brown liquid erupting all over his visor as the Spartan's opened fire on the flood form. But although one of its limbs was literally blown off, the flood merely howled and prepared to thrust a large tentacle and bone ornate limb into the Hell-Jumper.

A navy blue flash revealed the presence of a promethean knight, the Guardian screamed shrilly at the flood and stabbing it completely through the chest with its dark blue blade. With an effortless strength the Knight lifted the creature off, letting it struggle and writhe as it slid down his blade until it was shot by the Promethean's particle firearm; causing the flood to dissolve within seconds.  
Robert looked up at the large triangular forerunner warrior, grabbing at his M9 magnum from the holster and firing two rounds into the blue shielding of the Promethean in furious rage and remembered anger. As the squad watched in confusion, the knight turned back and looked down at the pesky Hell-Jumper curiously; then finally it aimed its rifle and prepared to smash him into particles.  
A horrendous howl erupted out of the forest, a squirt of blue shielding and blood ripping through the back of the knight as the second flood infected pilot jumped up on top and plunged its deadly tentacles inside the forerunner warrior

"Get moving!" Gabriel roared as he grabbed the ODST and pulled him into the pelican cargo holder, letting West assist him to enter the vehicle while the other two Spartan IV's entered the second vessel and immediately started operating it to fly forward and escape the two super powers that were fighting it out in the forestation below.  
The Promethean Knight screeched at the retreating vessel, only being stopped by another flood form rushing up behind and critically slashing across the exposed back of the forerunner warrior; blue blood escaping as more flailing and diseased corpses covering the entire Knight until it fell to the floor and dissolved in its own particles.

The Blue Spartan IV sighed out in relief as he manned the pelican, watching over the two marines, ODST and Spartan IV in his cockpit as he successfully flew the UNSC vehicle out of the thick green overgrowth. Every nerve in his body started to unclench as he realised he was finally safe from the flood; and then he started breathing again.


	21. Chapter 21

"O Hierarch" The large black Sangheili official bowed his head shortly at the prophet before he continued to speak, his mandibles flaring violently as he grumbled, "Shipmaster Bremat has gained knowledge on the control gate, he wishes to personally activate and open the Righteous Mantle for the Thunder."

The San Shyuum that had gone by the name 'Prophet of Storm' narrowed his eyes at the move, but as he realised how insignificant that ritual truly was in contrast to the primary and most obtainable goal; then Bremat could do as he pleased. The Hierarch nodded once and looked down at the monitor system, viewing the forerunner vessel that had been named the 'Saviour'; it was currently firing a heavy boltage of golden light at the forestation on the shield world, attempting to destroy all flood forces in the area. Vegetation and trees were blown by the thousands as the rain of gold never seemed to cease, making the final forestation become almost as barren as the desert landscape that covered the rest of the shield world, 'Righteous Mantle.'

"The oracle seems to have made its final mistake" The Prophet drawled slowly, "Directing the attention of the forerunner's towards the flood seemed admirable, but now his gaze has been drawn from the more worthy and dangerous opponent."  
The Harbinger growled at the forerunner vessel, the same ship had torn down at least five covenant vessels; causing an initial reaction of rage before calm overlapped him, "And what does this worthy opponent plan to do?"  
"No need to halt the Oracle at this point, the eradication of the Flood is something we all respect and understand" The Hierarch spoke tactically, letting the forerunner assist his plans, "But as soon as the flood are dealt with, I want the rain of glass to rip that vessel apart."  
"Understood Hierarch" The Black Sangheili turned his back on his master, slowly leaving the cockpit and listening in as an operating Elite clad in white spoke up.  
The Pilot screeched harshly, "O Hierarch, the human fleet has almost completely been destroyed, leaving onto the flagship operational and a few vessels escaping their ruined vessels."  
A smile blemished over the prophet's face, letting him enjoy the moment as he commanded over the lowly operators, "Let them all burn in the fires of the Thunder, eradicate every ship and do not leave a single one to live."

**Meanwhile**  
The two UNSC pelicans hung low over the thick atmosphere, skimming over the brown and yellow desert that expanded out below them. The dual suns shone heavily on the exposed earth, leaving behind a heated and barren wasteland.  
"This is North, Commander of Gold Squad and Spartan IV of the UNSC" A radio transmission echoed through the communications channel, a plead for assistance and a call for action. Although there was an entire fleet of the Thunder directly above them, they had to risk a cry out to help from their leaders. One corvette started descending to the shield world ominously as the message rang out, but the vessel didn't fire or head directly for the two small vehicles; but instead started heading to the mountain range in the south.

"North? This is Admiral Drafter of the Red Dusk; I read you Spartan." A radio transaction reported back to him quickly, capturing both Pelican's attention as the ONI specialist spoke to them all, "I have new orders for you, your report will have to wait"  
"Ma'am?" West inquired quickly, "We just experienced first-hand contact with the parasitical species of Flood, we need immediate pick up."  
The Admiral didn't reply for a while, leaving all forces awaiting any order they could gain and use to utilise their next move; finally the radio silence was broken as she spoke, "Spartans, the Reconciliation of Lies is heading straight for an forerunner structure at the southern pole of the shield world; we believe that this spire contains the control room to open this world up and let the Thunder inside."  
"What do you want us to do about it?" Robert asked aggressively, allowing the pent up anger and stress of the flood encounter to display vividly.

"My entire fleet has been destroyed, the Red Dusk is taking heavy fire and I fear for our own survival" The Admiral replied, deadpan and defeat etched on her voice, "You are my only forces down on that planet, I need someone to prevent that door to be opened; or god knows what will happen to mankind and the rest of the universe."  
"But I…" Robert asked again, distraught rage being overtaken by simple recognition of how important this task may be for every species living in the galaxy.  
"Listen to me" Drafter spoke slowly, allowing her words to carry great judgement, "Hundreds of men and women have died to try and stop the Thunder, and more will follow if we don't do what so many have failed to do. I know you're exhausted and just want to go home, but it's time to take this one more final step and finish what they started!"  
"Hoorah!" The marines roared in approval, stepping up from their seats and showing their complete obedience to the plan.  
The two pelicans spun around on their destination quickly, turning their thruster's onto afterburner so they could follow the large purple corvette known as the 'Reconciliation of Lies' to the control gate of the 'Righteous Mantle.'


	22. Chapter 22 : Panic

The helmet was heavier then she expected, it appeared and seemed light as it almost always would effortlessly sit upon her head. But as she ripped the golden encasement of herself, it almost fell to the floor as she tested its heavy weight. She looked over her arms and legs with her free eyes, letting the stained golden armour bear no sign of Flood infection as she monitored herself for cuts.  
"Everyone check themselves for bites" She spoke evenly, slowly lifting her chest plate and inspecting her body for any loose blood or any rips in her tight grey military top. Luckily no flood forms had managed to cut through her shields and left her pure from all forms of infection.  
The marines mumbled as they monitored their own armour pieces, making sure that they hadn't been corrupted with the infectious filth of the flood.

"What's our ETA?" West called out to the piloting blue Spartan IV in the cockpit; quickly sneaking checking her muscular torso, but only managing to grab the direct attention of every male in the vehicle.  
"At least an hour till we get to the far side, I recommend you guys get a good sit down." Gabriel replied quickly, a flash of boredom orchestrated through his tone as he continued to pilot the UNSC pelican that held them all.  
"There's nothing else we really can do" The female Spartan IV looked down at the seat she was positioned in, then turning back to the ODST next to her and then deciding to monitor and disassemble her helmet visor and place it all back together. She had to continue doing something, anything that would take her mind of what they had all fought against; nothing in her brain clicked to even understand or accept the terrifying force she had narrowly survived.

"Well we could do…a lot of things" The male Spartan IV laughed outloud, letting West's mind be ripped from the horror of the Flood and starting to imagine something alot more pleasant.

"Not in front of the marines Gabriel, although it is tempting." West laughed with him, enjoying the discomfort that the eaves dropping ODST must have been hearing and feeling. She successfully stuck her visor back to the helmet and wore it back onto her head; it fit about the same but somehow felt more comfortable; almost as if it was protecting her from the thoughts and memories she never wanted to have.  
Suddenly something cracked, a loud welching sound echoed through the whole vessel as a bone was shattered crudely and almost un-naturally. A hideous howl ripped through the silence and quickly erupted West into a panicked seizure of pure fear as she looked unto the corrupted marine that sat right in front of her. As the ODST next to her attempted to stick on his own visor, the diseased soldier screamed and pitched forward, his body spasming as his muscular and skeletal figure got corrupted and ripped apart.  
"What the hell is happening in there?!" Gabriel roared in his mike as he heard the screams of the female warrior and inhuman howls of an unknown but familiar force.

West screamed as the marine's neck was twisted crudely, red flowered tentacles ripping through his chest and flailing wildly as another limb started forcing itself out of the soldier's armpit. The creature howled at the harness belt that stopped it from moving, letting a torrent of brown liquid flow out of its mouth as it looked to its side and howled in the face of a terrified and restrained marine.  
With a scream of fury, the flood infected marine's jaw unhinged completely as it rushed forward and literally bit the face of the other soldier; letting the red flowered tentacles splatter and sink into his exposed neck as the flood continued to chew on the target.  
The female Spartan IV awoke roughly out of initial fear at the sound of the marine's screams, overcoming her own timidness and grabbing the M9 magnum from her thigh while unclipped herself from the pelican seat. Then without a word but instead with grim concentration, she kicked her right boot forward and managed to pin the neck of the flood form; she slowly levelled her powerful heel into its neck until it started to rip itself of the body of the second marine. Then finally she opened fire on the demented and infected creature, blowing its skull apart until it finally stopped moving with simple lack of cranial cavities.

"It's down!" West shouted to the blue Spartan IV, grimly kicking down and crushing the flood form underneath her boot; the satisfying crunch working to both please and disgust her. She turned back and checked the pulse of the injured second marine, trying to confirm if he had been infected as well. As she saw the second soldier was bleeding heavily from the face and neck, she knew that he couldn't be saved and immediately fired a round into the skull of the unconscious marine; sending crimson blood flying over her own armour as he died.  
"Are you sure!?" Gabriel shouted from the cockpit, stress in his voice; but whether that was about the current situation or if he would lose West, was still debatable for the female Spartan IV.  
A gurgle replied to him, it was the soft but ominous growl of an infected marine that was currently shuffling slowly to the piloting blue clad warrior. As the Spartan IV tried to turn around and grab the sheathed magnum, a torrent of liquid slobbered down his shoulder pad and a large bone ornate and infected fist ripped through the seat and almost skewered him from behind.

Gabriel roared as the tentacle attempted to rip his throat open, only being stopped by the golden shielding as he wrestled with the demented creature and attempted to fly the pelican at the same time. But the mass of the combat form was to powerful and over encompassing, tentacles and filth spewing in every direction as the pelican controls went haywire and sent the entire vehicle descending down to the desert below.  
"Son of a ..!" The Blue Spartan roared as the vessel continued to spiral down, beeping and blinding all occupants as it soared down with a torrent of smoke and fire. The ground became closer and closer without pause as the flood form roared in demented success and attempted to slice the suffocating Spartan IV.  
And then the pelican landed.


	23. Chapter 23

"Spartan team Beta, do you read!" The commanding Spartan IV roared into the combined radio headset, eyes open in confusion as he watched through the cockpit at the horrendous and awe inspiring sight of the second pelican that crashed heavily to the yellow desert below in an explosion of fire, smoke and sand. Despite a random and confusing snippet of radio signals, North had no idea what had caused the crash and if they were alight.  
"Sir should we stop down and help them?" A marine asked nervously, his voice tiny and insignificant to the might of the golden Spartan IV. The commander thought to himself as he flew the pelican, remembering when the blue warrior had tried to kill him and then when West had almost brought him to his knees with a cheap shot.

"No, we have orders and we will abide." North finally resoluted harshly, groaning as the notch between his legs hurt again, after the cheap shot by West it never did truly stop twinging. He could hear South growling from the cockpit, but luckily the large white warrior didn't make a move to stop him; which left them to head straight to the desert mountain range ahead that contained the control gate.

**Meanwhile**  
Smoke continued to flutter to the sky in a deadly and never-ending progression of gas; fire plumed from all sides of the destroyed vehicle and metal resided in random sections of at least one kilometre of diameter. The landscape was crude and even harsh, yellow and brown carcasses of sand and solid soil spanned for miles on end without apparent end or conclusion; leaving any survivors of the pelican crash to be literally stranded in a desert.

A low sounding groan lingered through the whole crash site; the howl seemed unhuman and had negative connotations on what was starting to awaken to life. A hunk of metal toppled over as a clawed limb smashed it to the side without remorse; the corrupted arm was heavily adorned with muscular spasms, elongated inhuman hairs, bone apparatus's and even a collection of pus and boils that burst and split open.  
The flood creature shrieked as it realised the lower limbs of its human counterpart was currently crushed under the hood of the pelican parts. Then with a howl it literally yanked itself forward and ripped the lower half of its corpse so it could crawl across the yellow corrupted soil. Solid strips of flesh fell to the ground as the combat form climbed over a large hunk of metal and howled at the figure trapped beneath it.

Spartan IV 'West' lay underneath the heavy collection of metal, only waking when her visor got splattered by the goblets of corrupted saliva. As she opened her eyes, the first thing she could see was the thick metal bar holding her in place and the diseased flood form crawling over it and trying to reach her. She screamed at the creature, letting lose complete fear as the monster descended completely and landed on top of her chest; raising its thick bone ornate arm and allowing tentacles to explode out of its neck. It howled at her menacingly, allowing its presence serve as an image of fear as it prepared to lower its bladed arm to slice the Spartan's neck from jugular to backbone.  
Suddenly a flash of blue intervened, another Spartan IV had rushed up and grabbed the flood around the neck in a fluid movement; pulling him of the female warrior and attempting to throw it against another fragment of metal.  
"Get of her!" Gabriel screamed at the flood, head-butting the creature and smashing it against the floor violently; the combat form screeched back and lunged forward with heavy unhinged jaws open to bite the warrior ferociously. Its teeth sunk heavily into the Spartan's left arm without pause or warning, halting both of them as they knew what had just happened.

Gabriel smiled as he lifted his left arm, its robotic white outer-shell barely affected or even infected by the corrupted form; and then he smashed his fist down without pause or mercy, crushing through the skull and backbone of the flood form in one electronic punch that moved faster than the concept of light. As the creature writhed and attempted to regain forms of life, the Spartan IV punched down again in another ferocious punch that cracked the corrupted remains of the chest and slaughtered the rest of the head.  
West looked up and rubbed her shoulder in pain, standing up slowly and looking over at the enraged blue warrior that was still repeatedly punching the remains of the flood form until there was literally nothing left but bone fragments, muscles, boils and blood. But he did not cease to punch down, border lining on hysteria as he smashed his fist down again and again.

"Ease down Gabriel…Ease down" She spoke calmly, raising an arm and stopping the robotic arm from punching down again; it was a tough limb to cease but her words did manage to calm him down. The blue warrior punched down one more time, hitting the soil more than anything as he finally breathed normally and let the corpse stay as it was.  
Then he looked up and monitored his surroundings and situation, metal fragments lay everywhere and the remains of the pelican had collected over a kilometre of simple square desert and brown soil. Marine and Flood corpses lay in random spots of the whole crash site, leaving the two Spartan's in the middle of nowhere with no seen means of escape.

"How the hell are we going to get out of here?" Gabriel inquired questionably, ripping his destroyed shoulder pad of and grabbing a dropped M9 Magnum, checking the ammo count and looking out to the horizon; hoping to find anything that could lead to their survival.  
"I don't…" West started slowly, her voice cracking as she fell to the ground heavily and started weeping freely into the soil below; her helmet and defences discarded completely. She had cracked, all of the horror and events working together to smash the outer-shell and unleash the pain within.

For his part, Gabriel kneeled down and sat next to her; holding her in his arms and stroking her hair while speaking, "Its ok, its ok."  
"I'm so scared" She finally admitted, all emotional output overflowing and committing themselves out of her system, "I've been terrified this whole time, I just can't do it Gabriel…I can't face the Flood."  
"You won't have to West…ill make sure of that" The Blue Warrior confidently spoke, letting his headstrong attitude fill her with bravery as he pulled her back to her feet and let her lean on him heavily.  
"But what are we going to do?" She inquired nervously, looking around at the barren desert and wreckage they had fallen into, "What can we do?! She roared out in complete desperation.

Gabriel looked down at her face slowly, reaching down and grabbing her helmet of the floor so she could protect herself from any harm; then he looked out and noticed a strange notch in the unusual collection of ruins and soil. A plumage of smoke was riveting from the south, a part of their vessel had no doubt crashed a bit later than the rest; but interestingly a soft pair of footprints was displayed on the soil heading straight for the smoke.  
"I don't know West" The Blue Warrior replied to her finally, stepping forward in the direction of the footprints and reloading his magnum, "But whoever left that trail might."


	24. Chapter 24

Robert fell down to the sandy soil again, scraping his already bruised knee on the hardened floor as he struggled to get up and continue walking to the smoky haze in front of him. After walking for over ten minutes, he had finally found the destination he had searched for. A large torrent of smoke and fire spewing out of the large hole and crack in the usually whole desert like earth of this hazardous shield world.  
The ODST peered in the hole nervously, keeping a finger on his SMG awkwardly as he aimed his flashlight through the dense atmosphere of the crashed pelican fragment. If it was what he had been hoping, then he would have found a way of this planet once and for all.

"Hell-Jumper?!" A voice harshly cut through the ominous silence from behind him, causing Robert to immediately turn around and fall on one knee as he aimed down the barrel of his Silenced rifle at the sight of two large Mjonlir armoured figures.  
"Don't come any closer you zombie creeps!" The ODST thundered through his visor, keeping a finger mighty close to the trigger in preparation to open fire. His entire frame was shaking madly as he aimed down the sights, but not once did he prepare to lower it.  
"It's ok Robert, it's us" The Blue Spartan IV spoke calmly, lowering his own magnum and standing down so the other warrior could rest against the wall.  
"Good one!" A lack of empathy cut through the tone of the Orbital Drop Shock trooper as he levelled the rifle at the Spartan's visor menacingly, "Nothing human could have survived that fall."  
"You did" Gabriel shrugged slowly, stepping forward cautiously and peering through the hole with the Hell-Jumper with a concerned expression etched upon his hidden face.

"I'm an ODST; I'm trained with high velocity impacts." Robert spoke back fiercely, with a hint of pride in his own survival and training as well; as they both looked down the chasm, he started to lower his silenced SMG in a faithful test of trust.  
"Yeah and I'm a Spartan, a genetically augmented human being encased in Mjonlir armour" Gabriel finished for him, barely noticing or caring for the paranoid Orbital fighter as he looked down the hole and asked, "What was your plan anyway?"  
Rob looked at the quiet motionless female Spartan with a sense of confusion and worry before turning back to the blue warrior and replying, "The communications relay inside the pelican wasn't at the crash, and for someone with experience I know that those things don't break easily; so it must have crashed here."  
"Good thinking soldier" Gabriel replied smartly, stepping into the chasm while activating the flashlight that had been taped to his M9 magnum; but as he looked around at the inside of the crack in the ground, he realised that something was wrong.

"This isn't a hole…this is a catacomb." He breathed heavily as he started walking back out of the chasm with a sense of worry and concern etched into his tone. Now a lot of more things made sense, the supposed 'desert' that had covered over three quarters of the shield world wasn't actually a pile of sand. It was the collection and never ending formation of flood resin and catacombs.  
The ODST looked at him slowly, breathing heavily in and out before speaking, "That communications relay might be the only way of this planet anymore."  
But Gabriel wasn't worrying about himself, he was looking over and inspecting the quiet nervous female golden Spartan IV that had not made a noise but had started edging away from the chasm when he had proclaimed it a 'catacomb.'  
"It's ok West, you can wait for us out here" He reassured her quickly, not wanting to bring in a paranoid and partially damaged warrior into a habitat that could kill them all.

"Don't leave me out here Gabriel…please don't" She answered him without pause, her voice strained and strangled.  
"I need to go West, you know that don't you?" Gabriel slowly spoke, watching the destroyed and corrupted surroundings for any movement, "I'll be back soon, in the meantime just get some rest and make sure you watch your own radar."  
And so the two warriors walked in, the Spartan and ODST heading straight into the maw of the catacomb; knowing that the flood would be awaiting there move and maybe even holding the communication's relay in their own deformed clutches.  
**Meanwhile**  
The Kig-Yar sniper squawked aggressively at the incoming human vessel, alerting all other covenant Storm forces of the incoming enemies as well as letting the General know that his plan and trap was in place. With two scrawny feathered arms the Jackal raised a needle rifle fluently and aimed down its sights to get an easy head shot on the incoming human UNSC forces. The Kig-Yar scout had situated himself at a high vacant point of the forerunner structure known as the 'Control Gate', a squad of Sangheili, Kig-Yar and two large burly Hunter's had hidden themselves inside the highly patterned silver and blue building.

A set of needle projectiles were unleashed on the landing marines, shattering inside the weak armour of the lead soldier and detonating harshly in a soft cloud and explosion of pink mist. Another marine fell to the floor as a needle smashed straight into his right eye and erupted out of the back of his head, dropping him without a second thought.

Two large Spartan IV's dropped heavily onto the soft ground, the massive white warrior sending cracks across the ground as he impacted heavily and immediately opened fire on the hidden Storm forces. Together the dual augmented warriors pushed forward violently, the golden figure using a designated rifle to immediately splatter the Kig-Yar's body with fragments of his own brain, skull and purple blood. The white Spartan rushed forward and fired upon two cloaked spec ops elite's that had given away their position by foolishly firing plasma bolts; only to be slaughtered by a volley of brute shot grenades.

General Bremat watched all of this unfold from his position inside the main control room of the forerunner spire, he growled in a pleased way as the human forces continued to push up without hindrance. Everything was falling straight into plan.


	25. Chapter 25

"Move in hard and fast, we don't want to stay any longer than what we need to" The large Mjonlir clad Spartan IV spoke softly, raising his M9 magnum in anticipation for anything that would erupt out of the shadows and attempt to assault him, or worse; to infect him until he became the very enemy he had sworn to eradicate.  
The ODST known as 'Robert' nodded quickly, stepping forward and flickering the safety function of his silenced SMG rifle as the duo entered the catacomb and walked forward through the smoke towards the communication relay. A light red haze could be seen at the end of the chasm, revealing the operational status of the required asset and once part of the USNC pelican vessel. But surrounding it, encased across the oddly perfectly burrowed catacomb; a collection of brown and yellow infected forms moved and breathed like demented puppets or even faulty replicas of nature.

Thick channels of hardened resin created the main structure of the entire tunnel, letting small goblets of diseased liquid and green hazy gas to explode out of the occasional elongated infected hair and yellow pus filled boil. Some of the walls contained more ancient and shrewd forms of resin, ending in finger like stalactites that moved violently as if they had a mind of their own.  
The Mjonlir clad blue warrior took point initially, quickly creeping down the ominous hole and making sure not to awaken any dormant infected forms that resided inside the walls; large holes branched of the initial corridor; leaving a large maze of chasms all covered in hardened, living and breathing infected encasements.

Robert almost opened fire on one particular corner of the chasm; one large yellow oozing boil had opened abruptly like a venomous flower and released a toxic expulsion of green foggy gases into the tunnel's atmosphere. Luckily both humans were wearing large helmets and had their own built in air filters as well as reserves, but if the boil had detected them then more would definitely follow.  
Finally both human warriors reached the large hunk of metal that contained the communications relay, a small imprint of red and blue light revealed the technology that would no doubt save all of their lives; if they could make it out of here alive and not corrupted by the flood.  
"Cover me Robert" The Blue clad Spartan IV quickly spoke, grabbing onto the communications terminal and activating it swiftly; the speech and movement had started to create a reaction from all the hidden forms inside the catacomb like tunnels.  
"Admiral Drafter of the Red Dusk, this is Gabriel of Golden Squad of the UNSC please acknowledge and go for secure." The Spartan IV spoke quickly; all too aware of the effect his voice would have on the activity of the flood inside the chasm. The sound of scraping limbs and chittering tentacles was starting to awaken, something that the ODST immediately picked up on and prepared to fire on anything that moved.

"This is Admiral Drafter, responding and going for secure." The voice replied with a powerful projection that seemed to not just disrupt the human forces but many flood spores in the vicinity.  
"Admiral" Gabriel hushed his voice as he continued to speak, he had to make this short and sweet otherwise it would mean the death of them all, "We require immediate extraction from our position, I'm activating the communication beacon now."  
"Spartan! I cannot risk any vessels to be sent throughout the universe" Her reply was forced and even more aggressive, increasing in volume and intensity, "I have given you direct orders to disruipt the covenant's movement and I…"  
A screech echoed throughout the tunnel, clearly influenced by the increased projection of the Admiral's reply. Gabriel looked out quickly for anything that moved in the darkness while he slowly whispered, "Shhhhh"

"Did you just shhh me Spartan? I am your commanding officer and I demand a direct…"  
"Shut up Drafter!" Gabriel whispered aggressively as a howl vibrated throughout the catacombs, quickly replied by another set of screeches and the sound of scraping limbs over resin, bone and flesh. After the ODST confirmed two silhouette's slowly crawling to their position, the Spartan IV quickly ordered the ONI Specialist to act, "Admiral, currently we are about to be swamped by a horde of flood so I really want you to send an evac bird right now to this current location."

A silence replied them both for a while, slowly the UNSC warriors looked back up to the tunnel entrance and evaluated how quickly they could run up the catacomb; with the flood forms slowly coming ever closer, moans and howls echoing throughout the entire maze of resin and flesh.  
"I'm sorry Spartan but we can't risk it, good luck goes with you" The Admiral replied shortly without a slight fraction of complaint or self-struggle.  
"Jesus Christ!" Gabriel roared in anger, throwing down the communications channel in absolute rage as he looked around at the incoming flood forms. Raising an arm, the blue Spartan IV fired full auto with his M9 magnum; successfully leaving holes the size of peas in the never-ending onslaught of diseased creatures. Howls and screeches now drowned out any normal noise, the flesh, bones and boils of the Flood overlapping the relay and covering the walls.  
"Pull back!" Gabriel screamed to the ODST, firing a round at a flood spore that attempted to latch itself onto the weakened soldier; sending green gas in every direction as the soldiers fled straight up to the light, crawling and sprinting at the prospect of sunlight out of contrast with the cold darkness of the corrupted catacombs.

**Meanwhile**  
One spectacularly large goblet of green plasma thundered through the air and impacted heavily against the silver floor; miraculously not harming it at all but sending the two Spartan IV's flying back into the wall. Sparks and lightning erupted out of the blackened smoke, leaving behind no crater but letting radiational gas dissolve into the natural air.  
The Mgalekgolo hunter growled in a thousand voices as it charged up its cannon again, successfully managing to block a ferocious onslaught of brute shot grenade's with its heavy ornate shield. The second burly hunter lay at the white Spartan's feet, his exposed orange worm-like skin ripped apart and armour torn asunder.

Infuried with the sight of his bond brother's death, the large armour clad creature roared in a thousand voices and rushed forward with a surprising burst of speed. As the white Mjonlir clad human attempted to dodge the heavy ornate shield; the hunter spun around and smashed the Spartan IV across the chest, lifting the warrior up so he could impact heavily with the forerunner wall and fall back down to the ground.  
South raised a fist from the ground, slowly lifting himself up as a rumble echoed from the many voices of the Mgalekgolo hunter in front of him. As the white Spartan IV stood up and grabbed the M9 magnum from his thigh and firing it at the large covenant storm shock warrior in front of him.  
Then with a resoluting blast, the hunter raised its cannon and without pause or hesitation; firing a torrent of green plasma directly into the Spartan's chest, letting it smash heavily with an explosion of lime energy while sending the human warrior flying through the weakened wall to collapse on the other side.


	26. Chapter 26

The flood combat form screamed menacingly as it lunged forward, ripping itself out of the hard resin encasing and entrapment. A gaseous burst of yellow toxins erupted as another large corrupted creature sprinted forward, a howl on its mandibles and a large bone claw outstretched. Small bulging spores joined the legion of diseased monsters, their tentacles and small flowered limbs stretching out with the intention to consume and infect any creature that would be foolish enough to enter their maw.

"Pull back!" A human voice echoed through the chasm, slowly followed by the bombardment of bullets and rounds ripping through the soft exposed flesh of the combat forms; blowing them apart but not stopping any movement. The two USNC warriors fired heavily on the incoming corrupted forms without remorse or mercy, running up the large catacomb corridor and shooting behind themselves blindly.

Two large flood creatures rushed from the side, letting blood and muscle rip off and splatter the floor as they smashed straight into the left side of the blue Spartan IV; knocking him completely to the floor. One howled menacingly and sprinted forward; receiving a swift kick to the area that used to hold a skull and sending the flood form into the nearby wall. The second hung back a little, attempting to wait for the human to let his guard down but only receiving a volley of SMG rounds cut through its side and rip it apart.

"Get up" Robert called out to the fallen Mjonlir clad Spartan IV, firing another round of bullets into a collection of flood spores that exploded in puffs of green hazy smoke. The two warriors stood up together slowly, firing at the large torrent of flood forms; but now the corrupted creatures had not just followed them but had started to surround the USNC members.

One particularly massive pure flood form creeped around the front of the catacomb, absorbing the metallic rounds like an grizzly bear being harassed by ants; both limbs of the huge creature had been reinforced with a skeletal structure that had been patterned so the arms appeared almost 'scythe' like.

"What's the plan Spartan?" Robert spoke slowly, his voice almost gloomy and devoid of all hope as both warriors were completely surrounded by the corrupted flood combat forms and the one monolithic pure creature at the front. Gabriel spun around and unleashed two rounds into the skull of the large flood form, only managing to anger the creature as it stepped forward and prepared to smash its 'scythe' like paw down onto the humans.

Slowly a small sphere like object descended down into the tunnel, bouncing against the wall and landing directly under the massive pure flood form; it sniffed heavily and almost touched the grenade with its tentacled mandibles just as the explosion went off.

"Up!" Gabriel roared to the ODST as the large blast cut through the ranks of flood that had halted their progression up the catacombs. Gunfire was erupting out of the top of the tunnel, revealing the golden Spartan IV known as 'West' firing upon the flood with her MA5 assault rifle. Robert rushed up quickly and managed to erupt out of the dark chasm, letting a flood of dual sunlight enter his visor and blind him as he fell to the floor while listening to the gunfire of West covering them all.  
"When's that evac coming!?" The female Spartan IV roared as she reloaded her weaponry and allowed the blue warrior to leave the catacomb with his life and purity still held.

Gabriel sank down and grabbed the M9 magnum, reloaded it and repeated fire on all menacing and corrupted creatures that attempted to rip themselves out of the hole as he spoke back deadpan, without any sense of hope, "There not coming, we need to find out own way out of here."  
"Jesus Christ!" She roared in frustration as she continued to plough her ammunition into the never ending fleshy corpses of the flood; a large spore attempted to jump and attach itself to her but only popped violently on her golden energy shields.

"What the hell are we going to do?" Robert shouted out as he managed to drag himself up, grabbing the silenced SMG from his side and firing at the unstoppable pure flood form that was rampaging up the tunnel until finally it smashed into the side of the two Spartan's; attempting to rip through their shields and pierce their Mjonlir armour.  
Gabriel attempted to rise and grab his magnum, but one large bony corrupted smashed heavily against his torso and held him down against the floor as the creature lowered the remains of its head and unleashed a torrent of brown liquid and flowered red tentacles.

"To the end" West spoke grimly, stabbing her knife into the flood's pure side and letting loss a stream of yellow pus, blood and destroyed muscles. Finally she looked over to the ODST and witnessed him becoming swarmed by flood spores, then again to the Blue Spartan IV's visor and nodded once. It seemed that history foretold their inevitable end, no one was coming and nothing could be done to save them all.

**Meanwhile**  
"South! Where are you!?" The commanding Spartan IV screamed into his helmet microphone, after the initial assault on the forerunner control gate everything had really fallen into hell; for all he the golden warrior knew, every UNSC warrior on the entire shield world had been killed, leaving him alone with a task to do.

Two large Sangheili minors were firing heavily on North's position, their storm rifles ripping through the low atmosphere and slowly letting the plasma cut into the forerunner metal; surprisingly leaving it completed undamaged. As the Spartan IV rushed up and fired his DMR at the elites, managing to clip the Sangheili across the neck after its blue shields had been ruptured.  
A squad of Unggoy deacons rushed him from the side, bombarding him with the blast of green plasma and the occasional whistle of pink needles. North growled as his shields were cut in half, leaving him partially vulnerable as he attempted to hide behind cover and return fire on the small but vicious grunts.

As the golden Spartan IV commander rushed to the forerunner barricade,  
reloading his DMR and aiming down the sights; the final Sangheili minor walked up behind him slowly, every step deliberately quiet and well balanced. A slow rumble escaped out of his mandible encrusted mouth as he raised his storm rifle over the human's head slowly.

North shivered slightly as he fired at the grunts, almost as if a sixth sense had issued him a warning of something creeping up behind him; but as he attempted to spin around; a thunderous and violent crack issued through the back of his head and let him collapse on his own limbs like a puppet cut from his master. The Strom soldiers immediately ceased firing on the human, surrounding him slowly and looking down at the unconscious and vulnerable Spartan IV commander.


	27. Chapter 27 : Desecration

"Bring the assailant forward, his fate must be set" The heavy voice echoed throughout the entire structure and set installation of the control gate. Heavy mirror shields vibrated right alongside the outside of the entire building, protecting it from assaulting humans or even worse; the Flood.  
Three Kig-Yar scouts squawked nervously to each other, following the assemblage of covenant forces until finally the small squad of many races had found themselves inside the large monitoring room of the installation, the room that contained the activation index to open up the interior of the shield world known as 'Righteous mantle' so the Thunder could finally enter.

Shipmaster Bremat of the royal covenant stood at the neck of the room, watching over the remaining soldiers under his command and keeping a watchful eye on the phantom and pair of banshee's that offered his escape back to the corvette 'Reconciliation of Lies.'

Finally the Sangheili general turned his gaze to the golden Spartan IV that lay at his feet, both arms restrained by a pair of white clad Ultra's as they waited for their leader and commander to make the decision on what to do with this victim.  
Bremat stared down at the human for a while, watching him awaken slowly and start to react with a vigorous will to survive. The General required the human to activate the control gate pillar; that was crucial as any attempt by Sangheili would erupt into defiance and an ongoing forerunner symbol that had been translated into 'Reclaimer.'  
North spat out a goblet of blood, his helmet had been removed and most of his armour lay in pieces; either melted or simply cut off. His arms were still bound but that did not stop him from trying to rip them free. The Ultra guards growled at him, successfully holding him in place with minimal effort as they lifted him up for the General to make a comment.

"Why the hell haven't you killed me already" North spat out in disgust, hoping to aggravate the general into a state of honourable battle that might even flick in the Spartan's favour.  
"Your imprint on the pillar is crucial for the Storm human" Bremat replied shortly, barley caring over the information he was informing to the enemy; the filth would soon be eradicated anyway, "That is why we even allowed you to bring your corruption into this holy installation."  
"Well you can forget it" North spoke defiantly right at the face of the Sangheili, "No matter how much you try and break me, I will hold fast to the order and discipline of the UNSC!"

"Silence" Bremat calmly proposed to the human, drawing his white handle from the thigh and activating a spluttering symmetrical orchestration of plasma to erupt and form an blue powerful energy sword. Then without a hint of warning, or a final command; the General lifted the sword up high and ripped it down so it severed the right arm of the foolish golden Mjonlir clad warrior.  
Screams echoed throughout the entire corridor as the Shipmaster picked up the armoured glove of the arm, extracting the human hand out of it and walking to the pillar before placing it harshly against the reclaimer symbol. The usual white light traversed to blue suddenly, leaving an ominous silence that was quickly over-ridden by the loud noise of gears shifting and a column of the shield world starting to literally open up to the outside world.  
"Success is ours" The General spoke slowly, pleased with himself as he watched the flashing symbols in front of him and listened to the pained screams of the human; it was almost music to his ears to hear the filthy vermin suffering.

"Ok" North shouted in rage, stifling another spike of pain from the lump of his right arm, "You've got what you wanted, now just let me go…please" Tears welled up from his eyes, dropping down to his cheek and falling to the ground; he had failed, but not just himself and his squad, he had failed the reminiscent's of humanity.  
Bremat growled and turned around to the weeping human, throwing the pale hand away in disgust before stepping on it violently in a splash of red blood and white bones.

"You are of no use to me demon, hence forth your life is forfeit" The Shipmaster softly spoke, allowing himself to enjoy the pain and suffering that was etching upon the Spartan's face.  
"Where is your honour elite?! Stabbing me in the back and leaving me for dead shows that you are nothing but a coward!" North roared in absolute fury, letting out the anger of his lost limb as well as the unknown fate of his squad mates.

Bremat chuckled to himself slowly, letting his energy sword flicker until it collapsed on itself and left nothing but a white handle, "You speak with the defiance of a traitorous cur human, but dare say…do you fight with honour?"  
"I do!" North shouted back, attempting to lunge forward but only successfully managing to falls straight to the floor.  
The Shipmaster paused for a moment, glancing to the operational control gate that was slowly opening the shield world from the inside then back to the human; grim truth in his voice as he grumbled, "Good…because I don't."

And without another word the General known as Bremat turned his back on the enemy in complete disgust, walking back towards the phantoms and preparing to leave the forerunner structure; and as he left, three large burly Sangheili warriors immediately opened fire on the defenceless golden Spartan IV, pulverising his entire body with the never-ending thunder of superheated plasma until there was literally nothing left but a pile of ashes, metal and blood.

**Meanwhile**  
South opened his eyes abruptly to the sound of firing plasma and screams, as he glanced down he realised he had been covered with stubble and enemies; so with a quick tug he managed to pull himself out and started to rise. In the distance, flashes of energy projectile weaponry cut into his commanding officer without remorse or mercy; completely obliterating his entire physical state into a dead hunk of armour and blood. Then as the white warrior watched, the three large Sangheili Ultra's turned their backs and headed straight for the parked banshee's and phantom that was preparing to take off.

"South is that you?" A radio signal cut through his communications, it was the demanding tone of the Admiral known as Drafter, "I lost your signal for a while, have you neutralised the enemy forces yet? Where is North, I can't get a hold on him."  
South hissed menacingly, ripping the microphone relay in his helmet clean of and smashing it into the ground as he started running straight towards the covenant vehicles; one banshee was taking of slower than the others, which left it open for easy interception.

The White armoured massive Spartan IV jumped of the forerunner building railing swiftly, traveling perfectly through the air until he smashed into the side of the purple banshee; punching through the back and killing the pilot inside.  
It was time to exact revenge.


	28. Chapter 28

One singular projectile of golden light flashed through the air, cutting right through the atmosphere while leaving a golden smoky trail until it honed in and cut through the tough flesh; slicing through and completely through. Another volley of golden flashes hunted their targets intently, destroying the few remaining enemy forces almost as if the particle rounds were designed to destroy the flood; which they were.

The large flood pure form howled as a single golden round sliced through the remains of its bicep, slowly eroding away the circular wound as if the particle projectile was literally eating out the corrupted flesh from the inside. A roar echoed throughout the flat plateau as a large deep blue triangular blade cut into the huge flood form and literally lifted it up of the two trapped Spartan IV's.

Blue matter and particles spilled out of the visor of the promethean knight as it smashed the flood form down to the floor and stomped on its back in hopes to neutralise it swiftly while holding it down and firing point blank into its skull. But the pure flood creature did not allow that, quickly twisting its back completely around to inhuman measures as it latched itself onto the forerunner warrior; tentacles and bones penetrating the blue shield.

Gabriel groaned out in pain as he started standing up, helping the female Spartan IV up from the floor and firing at any flood spores that were still trying to infect the ODST warrior. Another screech erupted out of the ongoing battle between the pure combat form and the Promethean knight; the flood creature had smashed the Knight's skull against the floor ferociously and finally smashed the forerunner warrior to pieces with its scythe like hand.

Particles dissolved in all directions as the blue knight vanished from sight, letting the pure flood form scream aggressively and rush back towards the vulnerable humans in the vicinity. Suddenly a flash of golden stream ripped through its chest, continuously supplying a torrent of never-ending golden energy that managed to obliterate the flood form into simple hunks of flesh, puss and blood.

"How disgraceful" A voice called out to the surviving humans, the tone was rather chronologically innocent; almost as if the speaker did not understand the various uses of English, which was a side effect of knowing many languages but not understanding them perfectly.

Gabriel looked up quickly at a small floating orb in the sky, it reminded him of a golden light-bulb but was somehow speaking to him; the runes and powerful lights described this 'monitor' as a forerunner device.  
"Who are you?" Robert groaned as he finally managed to stand up, pushing of a large hunk of flood flesh that was still attempting to strange him, "Wait…what are you?"  
The orb bobbed down pleasantly, "I am the Recognisable Barrier of Testimony, monitor of the promethean forces known as the 'Guardian's" His voice was completely pure, no lies or corruption tainting his tone as he spoke completely free of sin.

"Wait" The ODST grabbed his Silenced SMG quickly, ripping of the safety as he roared, "Those freaks are under your command? You're aware that they blew up the fist of judgement!"  
The monitor paused for a second, slowly speaking with a steady pace, "The transactions of the guardians was not my doing, it was the meddler that affixed my own data core with the religious propaganda of the covenant."  
Gabriel stepped forward quickly, watching the quiet female Spartan IV and placing a hand on the shoulder of the ODST, calming Robert down as he spoke, "Ok what do you want Barrier"

"To help you reclaimer, as I always should have done!" The oracle responded without complaint or means to apologise, two large blue flashing Promethean knight's teleported behind the orb as it spoke, "My initial assault upon the Thunder seems to have failed as the Guardian Knights have overridden their basic orders and tasked themselves with the sole priority to eradicate the flood."  
"You can't control them anymore?" Gabriel inquired nervously, keeping a finger on the trigger as he peered at the advancing blue flashing Promethean warriors.

"I can, but only if my orders abide directly with the destruction of the flood" The Oracle spoke solemnly, defeat in his tone, "But if the Thunder gains entry inside the Righteous Mantle then a new threat will plague the universe, something much worse than the flood."  
"Worse than those things?" West yelled at the orb in disbelief and emphasised sarcasm, "Is that even possible?" She looked up to the other Spartan IV, almost as if she thought he had all the answers.  
"The tomb in which the Meddler seeks for holds an ancient evil, a force of righteous destruction that all humans, covenant, forerunners and even the flood will tremble against in fear." The Recognisable Barrier of testimony continued to speak, emphasis and fear in even his own monotone voice.

Suddenly a sky rocketing explosion splashed across the sky, leaving large meteors of metal and fire descend down to the earth in spectacular golden eruptions. The forerunner vessel known as the 'Saviour' had been destroyed completely beyond repair, leaving the fragments rocket down to the earth and dissolve into billions of golden particles. A large torrent of purple glassing had been cutting though the vessel for too long, finally ceasing the never-ending stream of death as the Saviour met its own demise at the hand of the 'Infamous Fury.'  
"The meddler has made its last mistake" The Oracle spoke slowly, allowing anger and rage to overcome its usual calm voice, then it turned its entire frame back to the humans and spoke, "My army is spread too thin, I need you to finish what my race has started Reclaimer."

"What do you want us to do?!" Gabriel roared, sick of the poetry and simply wishing for a straight answer; the temptation to grab the orb was large but after seeing how easily it had killed a pure flood form, maybe he wouldn't do that.  
"You need to stop the meddler, he is about to unleash a force that has the capacity to destroy every single being and concept in the galaxy." The Oracle continued, slowly creating a golden light that trapped the three humans; a teleportation field.

"How can anything be that powerful?" Robert inquired as his atoms started to disappear; complete confusion displayed though his silver visor.  
The monitor completely activated the teleportation field, calibrating the reclaimers to disappear to the final human flagship known as the 'Red Dusk' as he spoke, "They had the capacity to create you, to create the forerunners and to construct the vile plague of the Flood."


	29. Chapter 29

A soft burst of gas erupted out of the side of the Unggoy's helmet as it breathed slowly, its large reptilian paws covering its face as it slept peacefully at the side of the hanger bay overlook. As it shuffled its chest up and down, the shields of the hanger door opened suddenly; awaking the grunt quickly to monitor what was coming in to the corvette, luckily it was only a purple ornate banshee that thundered in to park with the rest of the covenant aircraft. Satisfied with the safety of his kin, the Unggoy deacon readjusted his arms and crouched down to peacefully fall to sleep.

A white limb ripped itself out of the purple banshee; opening the bonnet and letting himself escape the vehicle while assessing the lack of covenant in the hanger bay. He crept forward slowly, aiming for the weapon stack on the wall and grabbing an unidentified Carbine rifle; sticking a green canister into the covenant weapon and taking a step forward.

South growled as he monitored his situation, running up to the hanger bay doors with a vengeful anger and rushing through to get into the main arena bay of the whole Corvette; he knew that if he rushed past the interior of the ship without being detected then the assassination on Shipmaster Bremat would be undergrown with fruitful resuts.

**Meanwhile**  
"The Hierarch wished to congratulate you on your success Shipmaster" The Sangheili pilot spoke to him quickly, kneeling in the aggressive General's presence.  
Bremat nodded once, twitching his mandibles together in violent anticipation as he growled out to every covenant race in the cockpit, "Prepare the Reconciliation of Lies to follow the Thunder into the shield world, victory shall be ours."

The Storm creatures roared in achievement, raising their reptilian like fists in triumph over their collected victory. Three large Ultra Sangheili growled with them and started leaving the cockpit, waking straight out of the main revolving doors and waking through a collection of corridors.

"Do you really believe that we will traverse the great journey?" One of the white clad elite's rumbled optimistically as he discharged the blue plasma rife and stuck it into his thigh holster.  
"I believe in my orders O'dmaara" another Ultra replied quickly without further comment or any intention to continue the conversation.

Suddenly something quickly moved to the side, a large white body ripped through the augmented gravity and smashed into the side of one Sangheili Ultra; stabbing it in the neck three times and letting purple blood splatter all over the wall.  
The two other Ultra's roared in frustration at the sudden and brutal death, the first rushing forward without weapon in his arms as he kicked his right leg forward straight into the chest of the intruder; meaning to kick the pathetic human back into the wall.

South growled ferociously as the two toed boot smashed into him, but with the resilience of a tank; the white Spartan IV held his ground and grabbed the thigh of the Sangheili; twisting it to the side and breaking the Elite's femur so it fell heavily to the ground. It roared out in pain as it's knee was completely bent backwards, finally looking up to see the Spartan fire a green sharp projectile straight through the Ultra's eye and exploding out of the back of its neck.

A hiss erupted out of the last white clad Sangheili warrior, the final elite had had the thought to stick back and activate the blue energy sword it possessed in its rough reptilian paw. With a quick lunge, the Ultra spun the blade crudely upwards and slashed the Carbine rifle in half with a spark of green light.  
South hissed right back at the Ultra, not making a move as they both circled each other; a symmetrical powerful image of two large White armour clad warrior's, one of them carrying an energy sword and the other held nothing but a K-Bar knife.

Finally the Sangheili made his move, lunging forward quickly with his sword arm and the rest of his body; unfortunately the elite missed the elusive Spartan IV, stabbing straight into the purple wall of the corridor. South reacted even quicker, dodging the initial assault and stabbing the knife straight across the throat of the final Elite.  
The Ultra gulped violently, purple blood spilling down his chest as he weakly attempted to rip the plasma blade out of the wall without success before he fell to his knees feebly.

South stepped forward to the wall quickly, grabbing the white holster and successfully ripping it straight out of the wall; where the first thing he did was to skewer the Ultra from abdomen to neck.

**Meanwhile**  
"Barricade that door you imbecile's!" General Bremat roared to them all, letting the lesser covenant warriors attempt to defend themselves from the human force outside. Although the Shipmaster was unsure about how many forces were on the other side, but there had to be enough to rip through the imperial might of the Storm wardens.

A flash of blue sparked from the inside of the cockpit door, slowly cutting through the heavy metal with the extreme heat and mere sharpness of the energy blade; as the General watched, a hunk of metal melted completely and fell down to the ground in liquid form.  
Smoke erupted out of the door as more metal dissolved quickly, obscuring the sight of the invading force from Bremat and the few Unggoy and Kig-Yar operators. Suddenly three small blue objects were ditched through the hole and impacted against a few Grunt pilots, letting them flail around in fear as the plasma grenades detonated violently.

A white figure rushed into the room with the speed of a true demon, jumping back and forth in an aggressive dance of death defying lunges. Bursts of luminous sky blue blood mixed with the purple of the Jackals as every member of the cockpit was cut down one by one.

One Kig-Yar managed to activate the heavy buckler and let a circular dome of energy spew into a protective barrier; only for the White Spartan IV to rush forward and literally stab the energy sword straight through the shield in an explosion of white plasma.  
A screech echoed through the cockpit as the blade continued to cut down the plasma barrier, cackling energy spewed out of all sides until finally the sword severed the buckler of the Jackal and stabbed it straight though the heart.

South stood back and withdrew the energy sword, letting a goblet of purple blood splatter across the floor as the Jackal feel straight on its face. Then he turned to his side and raised it again at the one Sangheili who had remained alive after the initial assault, General Bremat stood at the neck of the cockpit with an energy sword outstretched in its taloned arm.

"So you came back to exact vengeance" Bremat chuckled cruelly, a sense of maniacal wonder running over his rough tone, "How typical of your race, but your flawed attempt ends with me filthy human."  
South walked forward quickly, lifting the blade in anticipation at the oncoming assault whilst saying no words himself.

"Nothing to say Demon?" The General roared at him, readying his grip to swing the blade across to slit the human's neck with one quick lunge, "Then I am left to ask, do you fight with honour you filth?"

"NO!" South roared outloud in complete anger and pain, his jugular stressing in an un-calibrated form of speech as he made one final step forward and literally flung his energy sword towards the golden enemy in front of him; watching with an ill intent as the blade seeked down and cut straight into the lower chest of the General in an eruption of purple blood and cackling blue plasma.

Bremat groaned as a tube of guts fell down to the ground, the energy sword holding him in place as it stabbed him through the gut and then through the wall behind. Finally a vomit of purple blood fell down to the earth and the General finally pitched forwards in an un-ceremonial act of death.


	30. Chapter 30: To be continued

"Spartan West and Gabriel have been confirmed to be on board Admiral Drafter, they appear to be free of any infection and have picked up and ODST with them" The human operator relayed to the leading female commander.  
"How the hell did they…." The Admiral started questioning her operatives slowly, then quickly she shook her head and realised that she had a lot more important matters to deal with at hand. The Shield World known as 'Righteous Mantle' had started opening a few hours ago, leaving a hole in the interior planet that would lead the Thunder to their end game. The forerunner vessel had been blown up a moment before, and as it had been protecting the last UNSC vessel from certain death; now they had all been plunged into an awkward situation.

"Keep eyes on the covenant vessels, as soon as they enter that shield world I want all available routes on following them" Drafter spoke roughly, pinpointing the Thunder Flagship as a priority target on the ship's display monitors.  
"Ma'am" An operator spoke up quickly, his voice drowning out her commands with simple reasoning, "They outnumber us twenty to one, are you sure we shouldn't pull back?"

"You listen to me" The Admiral defiantly replied without a beat, "If the covenant get inside that shield world and manage to utilise the forerunner assets in there, then gods knows what they will do not just to us but to every species in the universe that crosses their religious lies!"  
Drafter stepped up quickly, walking amongst the numerous operators as if she was an equal amongst them, "We are given a code of honour, an entrustment of the safety of humanity and you wish to shrink in fear of the enemy bombardment? If you don't wish to do it for me, or even for yourselves then do it for the children of our legacy; the matrimony of what we leave behind."

Finally she looked back to the covenant forces with a set glare, "It's time to finish this once and for all, it's time to challenge that check mate."

**Meanwhile**  
The singular blue orb arced through the air vividly, leaving a smoky trail as it descended and latched itself onto the large collection of plasma coils and batteries that had been amassed around the main engine room of the covenant Corvette known as the 'Reconciliation of Lies.'

South grimly nodded at the explosion that started to rocket through the generator room, then without a further word he rushed out and immediately set himself on a course to grab the banshee he had commandeered earlier. Plasma burst out of the corridor leaks, blowing Storm warriors against the wall as the white Spartan IV sprinted through to the hanger bay; intent on the prospect of survival and self-preservation.

A single white deacon Unggoy sprinted out of the hanger bay in fear at the large explosions, his sleep interrupted by the destruction of the large purple corvette; only for a massive white Spartan IV to jump past and enter the banshee stocked in the hanger bay.  
As the eruptions of metal and energy started to intensify, the banshee quickly accelerated through the hanger bay and out to the spacey cosmos that engulfed the rest of space; for a fleeting moment it seemed that the white Spartan IV known as 'South' would escape the engulfing power and hunger of the exploding plasma and fire.

Lightning arced out of the entire corvette as it started snapping into fragments, hunks of purple metal exploding in all directions and a never-ending wave of plasma fire expanding out from the remains. The banshee attempted to outfly the torrent of energy but to no avail, without remorse or mercy the barrage of power smashed into the flying vehicle and disabled it while pushing it downwards in an explosion of purple metal shards.

The plasma torn vehicle burned out chunks of superheated plasma with a firing passion, spiralling downwards towards the catacombs of the shield world down below; chunks of metal blowing of as the banshee entered the atmosphere and finally smashed down onto the brown hardened resin that encased the entire planet.

Fire and smoke billowed through the crash site, hunks of purple metal inflicted across the entire columns of yellow liquid and corrupted living walls; elongated hairs flexed quickly in the atmosphere, almost as if they sensed the presence of this new target, prey and potentially adapted next meal.

South groaned as a spark of blue fire attempted to live of his life force, quickly the Spartan IV rubbed the flame of his armour and tried to rise onto his own two feet. As he managed to pull himself upwards, he could hear the all too familiar howls and screech's of nearby infected forms closing in for the kill. He opened his eyes quickly, making sure his large golden visor was affixed properly so he could protect himself from the corrupted and disease ridden corpses and spores that were currently crawling out of separate holes like demons rising from hell.

The White Spartan IV growled aggressively at the flood forms, attempting to scare them off but not even gaining a purchase hold on the inhuman and un-stoppable force of the hideous flood. With the resilience of a true Spartan, South reached down and ripped out a large hunk of purple metal from the ground; twisting it into a makeshift and ridged blade. A nearby hiss drew his attention to the fact that the flood surrounded him from all sides, large pure bred flood combat forms looming down at him with smaller combat forms slowly creeping forwards.

South looked up at the large explosion that was still ongoing, then down at the makeshift blade in his tight fist; and so he tightened it even more powerfully and rushed forward without a sense of hesitation or self-doubt.  
He could only hope that they killed, and didn't infect him.

**Meanwhile**  
"Sire, the Righteous Mantle has been opened completely" The piloting Sangheili bowed down to the Hierarch in front of him, showing his ongoing loyalty and faith to the San Shyuum on such a moment of truth and reconciliation.

The Prophet didn't reply straight out, instead deciding to activate his hover chair and loom out to the large remains of his original fleet or 'Thunder'. Only two assault carriers had survived the endless battles with both the humans and the forerunner traitorous cur; a new explosion had left his corvette number down to a simple set of three vessels. All together he was prepared for anything close to a naval war inside the large shield world of the 'Righteous Mantle.'

But if what he had been told was true, then he would need something a lot larger and more powerful in order to neutralise the inevitable and unstoppable force inside the prison of a shield world; a force that had trembled the feet of humanity, the covenant, the forerunners themselves and even the flood infections forms.  
It was said that the mere atoms would spark in fury and fear of this new assailant.

The prophet looked down at the planet one more time, at the large opening column and finally spoke to the crew, "It is time my brothers, it is time to reap the bounty of our efforts; it is time to witness the coming of a new age and the birth of a god; steer us straight into the Righteous Mantle."

The vessels complied without hesitation, pushing through and starting their engines to enter the large shield world that would hold the greatest threat and wonder of the entire universe.

For it held a Precursor, a guardian of the cosmos and the creator of all life.


End file.
